Poetry: those late nights

the apartment, I lift my head from

reading and catch a glimpse of the water stain. the

upstairs neighbor

ran her A/C all day till it coughed, died, and oozed its coolant through cracks

gathering just above my ceiling. that was the day you gave up

eyes vacant,

done searching, you

withdrew both hands

arms folded now. I turn away, moving like

molasses the

world around now fresh

brushstrokes, oil, everything like the background of old storybook pages.

a water stain;

those late nights.

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