The smell of things dying
(breath lingering around our heads,
halos of denial)
We find innocence,
and let go of all the gut feelings...
I am finally alive.
I put on a sweater and adore this frost.
Getting better at throwing the cigarette butts into the can
From the inside of the door
While I'm dreaming all day in the stairwell,
Waiting for you
To feel how soft I've grown to be.