she keeps herself
folded carefully
in her grandmother's cedar chest,
still haunting of her perfume.
safe away from the loud streets
her mother's cigarettes
and the last time sorrow
cut so deep she didn't believe
she would breathe again
without feeling every cruel moment.

she misses each sunrise
so i devour every one
trace every line and colour,
let them play behind my eyes
when we kiss.

my sweetheart
she longs to be free.