I could see the lines of your feet you abandoned on the floor, but I restrained my eyes from catching your glance. I trekked through the rattled breaths of my lungs until I sat on the white chair in the corner. Someone called my name and, in a habitual manner, I searched for the voice until my gaze locked with yours.
Somehow, our eyes spoke the lost verses our lips could not release. The drips of sorrows began to rush into my tears, open and broken before you. Your fingers folded into a hollow hell and I shied my longing glimpses away.
The scent of raindrops drew into my nostrils from the windows before me. In the clear glass of mourning, your faded reflection passed with somebody else’s fingers around the spaces that once were mine.
WORD COUNT: 136
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