Rory would bleed               so pretty like morning                     but in a season

where light leaks rare, where                       light is green,

marking a birth, or all that’s pure

Rory smiles cause she’s     fragile   but        icy too

These days          it’s hard to            remember how

good a gash         in the sky feels                  thawed

across    one’s view            or losing track

of whose fingers belong to whom

even more difficult            to recall              what was

beautiful without.              witness

I think ignorance is           both a                  blessing and a curse

Everything          became

slippery               confusing             after the first