I recall the light in the room

like the arm of a
man around her waist
a love grip breaking
unlike the sun
bathing in the
innocence on the
other side of
half-cracked door

a single tree to
hide behind

keeping secret
two blood oceans sharing
a twin bed wondering
“who stopped loving me first”

a fist in the wall

“who’s heart fell for the cliff
and in love with the ground ”

but on purpose
glass splatter

why was concrete softer
than my own soft tissue

the sun
begins knocking
still when
you only hear
with your eyes

the sunlight stays
a sliver
and you in

—  T.L.R