Tiger eyes found the silhouette of your face in the dark.
The fog of spiraling staircases,
an echo in an empty
room
and sepia photographs
floated behind her eyelids.
Alive in the unpainted brushstrokes of a blank canvas,
her glass tongue murmurs a soliloquy.
A note in the final bar of a love song.
The branch that leans toward you in the sunlight.
A marbled sky.
Interlocking ironwork on a copper door.
It reminds her of all the times her fingers have laced with
yours.
The cardboard box of fluid confessions is the map
to her midnight musings and a heart of wild abandon.
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