Light outside snapped and dipped

around the old stone 

and the

clipped clean manicured lawn.

i had to look up to meet your wild hurt gaze

your fury at the top of the staircase

above me 

i had to look up to see your yellow hair 

around your face, in needle thin rays of light

strobing out, away

picking up the little currents of your emotions like electricity

i met her silent confrontation with my own, the last day.

my own quiet, silent plea

to please, understand me.

i collect your things, I collected them

to understand how we could be so different

The things didn't last, but the image of your yellow hair and the betrayal

It has.