remember when i wrote
your art and you
begged me to trust
the purple sky; we
died that day. i bled through
your discreet wardrobe
and stalled in frequency
when we palmed our
grieving eyes.
to hear her breath;
vertical exhales
collect my holes and fills
the grief with smudged
heavens. you are my boundary
created by dusted wings;
where the lost birds dine
me in indigo bulbs.
