The smell of you is a sound that happens inside of me. My heart is a violin you play with your teeth. I love it when you measure me by mouth. Your lips long Walk About. Up and down me. It's the rolling of the shade that lets the light in.

You left a shirt here. I fold it around my face like I would get me to a nunnery. At the heart of every tragedy is a God who meant Love, but made Grief instead. Like water, I am seeking my own level in your arms. I am hounded by the light until I pour my shadows out. Just like anyone else.

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