The sheets are stained.
You've shot them through the middle.
The seam in which we lay, has now frayed parallel.
Spilt in two, my side, and yours.
Something so whole, with the vivant that radiated through curtains, is now a little piece of sky.
You gave him everything.
It was beautiful.
Nothing hurt.
Ultra violent radiation could show the marks you left in the mangled sheets.
He doesn't need lights to show the marks you've left on me.
Lying here alone, in the spot you once were.
Whom here believes in forever when nothing and nowhere is golden?
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