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he tugged absentmindedly at
the loose strings of her
rose beige bedsheet,
watching her sleep in
the façade sunshine that
threatened to swallow him whole;
it would have, maybe, if not for the
moonless night that grasped the
paper town only moments later.
but he kept watching her,
unblinking ─ like the factory lights
a mile or three away. or perhaps
the north star hiding under the
impenetrable cloud cover.
and he waited for her to wake up,
even as the sky bleeded rainstorms
or even as the strike of the
midnight clock echoed
through the walls of his soul.
his heart shaped thoughts,
now lay bare with cracks in them.
he waited for her to wake up.
but she never did.
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