your old picture
in the box
under the bookshelf.
the yellow crept
into our lives
stained first our teeth
then our fingertips.
stained the sky
stained the bathroom walls.
i went blind casually
without complaining.
it grew cold in my bedroom
and i forgot to pay the bill.
sleep became a five-second shudder
between one and
two in the morning.
alcohol took up
most of the rest of it.
yellowed my lungs,
my stomach.
in the dream,
i am naked
beside you.
we do not touch.
i can see your closed eyes
moving like typewriters
beneath their lids.
you are writing a story
in your sleep.
it develops inside of you.
the white snow.
our white house.
the white, white lakes.
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