From within a dim light cast
two silhouettes on the shade
70 miles pour hours
emblazoned down the window
on those drying streets that peer
listless into your cold room
onto your dying sheets
And I stood there on the corner
where the pale green things
met the asphalt; two years nonethewiser
wondering why I’m not the guy
who’s silhouette’s on the shade.
“Because monogamy is the 5th season”
forever shadow-caressing the blade
along your arm’s arm.
Striking, isn’t she?
Striking in her gauze-white gown
as she projects like eclipses
her silhouette on the shade.
And your keychain feels lighter
when the miniature flashing Chicago skyline
fell off in deep November
No longer numbering our days
murmuring me away from your silhouette on the shade.
Imagine living in a state of constant exhalationNow imagine living.