“Call me Alex.”

Now onto this haiku:

“She cracks
it and sees nothing.”

I can pull so much from this, but… This is what I have tapping at the forefront of my brain: that thing that went awry, was in the presence of light, at the window, the girl… longing to know the cause of the in-the-moment doubt, bust that badboy open thinking she could find the cause.

But, it’s all in her head?

Am I reaching? I am reaching, aren’t I? I hope I am not, though. Also, is this a funeral? Is that a casket? I feel like there are so many not quite right things in the photo or in her presence and she knows it too.

I am more than breath & bones. I am nectar in waiting—Editor PSILY •Writing for the cosmos. •https://acorneredgurl.com

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