It waits

crack a whisper through the gaps
of your fisted silence, 

let the tears spill down
your thin pressed lips, soften
your hands clasped
around locked knees

I am losing hope here,
my fingers don’t reach you
and your smiling face—
looks painful.

Love, drop the polish bottle,
already slipping

The night is waiting for you,
waiting, to spring into 

..violets ..violets and violets.

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