how delicate the night runs along
the windowsill and I want to take her
in my arms, as I've done so many nights
before, but the morning has never
judged me as it does now. Am I ready?
to leave, to really walk away, could
ever be, never, no, not that, her scent
follows me wherever i go, other women
smell like her passing by me on the way
to work. Is this what I have to look
forward to? No other could fill her shoes/
I sit silent/cement in my throat
she's not angry, this makes it harder
to walk away and when i do i walk through
the door and back into her arms - no exit,
some movie where dreams and reality
mold into one, nothing in my life is
as real as she, yet i am not ready
either way i'm unfit/ love so deep
i find it hard to breathe
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