Nocturne

The door opens to stars above.

A goodnight kiss stabs 

my jaw like toothache.

Eve's breath dishevels hair.

Pistol in hand...

A bullet shatters her window.

She sleeps. 

Impossible a body so serene's

not dead.

  

Still Life Shade

 

          

"Perception, in its pure state, is, then, in very truth, a part of things."