I count shiny stars
And
Broken letters
From old typewriter keys
That tangle and stick;
Spitting out
Halves of sentences,
Parts of truths,
Bits of stories,
A crescent moon
Rather than an “o”

You whisper
That you love me
Under streaks of sun
Beneath their vacant shadows
And
A universe
Unraveled;
Unreservedly undone

They
Cannot see me
Through black lace
Or
Green ribbon
Or polka dotted bows

As
I come and I go
In subtle fashion
Slow like early spring,
Snow on tulips,
Frost on budding trees,
Ice melting
From the rooftops

But
I am here
Wedged into
The tick of seconds,
The surly fetters of time,
The margins of our severance;