After

She moves

between

clouds of thought:

Does he think of me?  Do I care?

 

Blinded

I used to live in a glass

house that never broke,

despite the furious trembling

of the ground beneath.

 

Being His

The warm smoke knits itself into her sweater

as his arm slides

around her neck.

They stare at the fire, the voices of her

friends suddenly mute.

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