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    No windows in this room,
    Yet there is a shadow that has fallen over this bleeding heart.
    It has fallen to sweep me off this tattered ground
    That i have memorized with my hands.
    Each crack has been a tailored picture of this life.
    I bleed these memoirs these fading pictures of a shell that used to be.
    Once existing as an impression, but the fire never took.
    Imperfection within the due process
    But there you are enveloping me again.
    Every touch, a feeling of saturation,
    A restructuring of a vessel going to the wheel.
    This has reversed the depletion of a hemorrhaging heart.
    Pressing back to something beautiful

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