. Prologue .

in matchbook folds
& ticket stubs
       her name was scratched—

                beneath the thunder
                  a breath
I never owned

. Act I .
she arrived
      as distortion

light bent
like guilt under heel—
             no name.
just teeth.
just truth.

her laughter
      cracked the room ajar
& stitched the dark
          with unspeakables

we kissed
like ink
           too old
to remember
     what it meant to stain.

. Act II .
the chandelier—
            confessed us
in broken light.

she undressed
      not me
        but time
in mirrors
     that flinched

we fed ourselves
        to our own mouths

is this
            disguise
              or
                faith?­

the plates cracked
   like we rehearsed
          every break
           before it fell

. Act III .
she haunted
          not the room
but the shape
          my ache made

trash became
     an altar
         for prayers
I mumbled
        like rust

             a fever
                a brushstroke
                  a sermon

"don't starve
what I left you."
     she said

the ocean whispered
     back:
         you were real
            & that’s
                the cruelest miracle

. Act IV .
  I cooked grief
      without recipe—

a rusted nail
         in place of God

a strand of her hair
              & I don’t cry
     I
         just
                breathe
                ­   once

then again

  the photo folded
      like wings
           & flew

  somewhere
    we’re still
         unspeakable

but here—
    we are
         enough.

. Epilogue .
         the roast is cold

     a dog chews
        the Constitution

  the flag
    *****
        like a trapped angel

           I painted her
             with bone
               & myth

    the frame is fire
         the canvas bleeds

          I leave the door open
               just a crack—

  let the myth
        wander back

              if it dares.