through the glass. As I
pass a bead of water trickles
like the tears of an orphaned

daughter. The pain on the pane
is palpable as the morning
rain. It left a stain on this heart

that spread as the glaze on
a fruit ****. I passed again and
the acid in my gullet leaped

out of my mouth like a jumping
mullet. I quietly left. But my breath hung
as a billowing cloud cloaked in death.