On the fourth step of my skull,
she stopped to write upon the wall -
For A Good Time Call
A LITTLE LOUDER.
I'm not much of a shouter.
I think too much.
On the twelfth step of my skull,
she paused to smoke and take in the view.
I think that she was looking at you;
I know that I was.
I have to look.
I'll never touch.
On the top step of my skull,
she finally made herself look down
and saw herself there on the ground
small and broken.
Small and broken.
Both of us.
For Open Link Night at dVerse.