shilouettes drip down the window like
raindrops
our intermittent voices
leave beads of honesty
lingering on the window panes
steal me
tip and spill
and leave me laying in a puddle
soaked with hidden memories and
tipped glasses
(all the broken pieces swept
carefully under the rug)
i step carefully
when i walk now.

silence drops and
we lie here now
as if we're the only
souls in the world
wrapped in these
plaid bedsheets
and subtle
contentment.