A night refracted through a broken glass.
We thought that in your room we were
Ready to cup the world in our palms,
Spiralling deep into a multicoloured dark.
All the barbed layers fell onto the carpet
And we laughed
At how I couldn’t love your core before.
But now, a tinge of light. First unnoticed,
Disguised as a conclusion of our own accord.
First a gradient on the wall.
Shards quiver and are pulled back into place
To form a glass. Layers wrap back around us
And the cold sets in. Cores are stored
For another secret time.