Prints and Pressings

I still possess

The acid etching

Later pressed to off-white paper

Covered in the colors

Mixed inside your studio.

Did you have to paint me grey?

The night I left,

I waited by the train.

I wrote you poems,

Set your form aflame,

Costumed you in the orange purple

Gardens of the divine.

You drained me,

Left me rinsed 

Of hue and tint.

I waited in the rain.

I never saw you

After the hiss

And grind

And shrinking station

Lost to darkness.

- 6/11/25