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SMEARED
There was no credence in the way you said hello after five months of music and pictures. I had left my make-up at home on my dresser, how was I to know you'd be searching for the same donations.
It was a nervous sensation to at last hear your voice inside my sad red branches, but something ephemeral made me realize who you really were.
As I felt your yellow fan of hair comb my mind, a sudden incredulous notion gave thought to my fingers to dial the telephone that evening, but you were not home.
It was back then to say I love you, can I just touch you, but I became recluse in a world of blur, and in that instant, you melted out the door.
I could have talked about the history of shapes, as your patient shadow cast light on the gloves I didn't even want.
Nobody really knows how I tried to support my beautiful pen as it flowed out of itself for you, but now I feel the extent of my solitude, something within me, so damaged my salty rust.
