To Miss Catherine (A Birthday Gift. Sorry I can't do better, but still...)

Hide out, it’s certainly a safe place.
With lights out and blankets shielding bodies from the cold.
I know that there exists polaroids of clothing that you used to wear.
Your skin constructed cities as it flaked into the stitches and the seams.
Dearest, you left me with a closet
Where the moth’s digest a promise that «I'll never tell a soul»
I know that you know.
We stack bricks we’re building a brand new city
Where will sleep safely and underwater.
Where we are all the same, we’re breathless sculptures.