Let all the days of me slip
into a room
you’ve never known
where

quietly
alone
she
arranges glass
tiny corked bottles
variously curved and hued
serve no purpose
beyond possession
these are hers
against all requirements
utterly
extra

vibrant in a row
on the worn chipped sill
layers of window
before window
known

through
the world softens
blurs
wavers
lazily
ambiguous in its dictates

this
hinted possibility
hers
these
colored bits
of emptiness
the only wealth
she
knows

and
you

let all the days of me slip
away

.