Zoi's Window

  Clothes litter the bedroom floor, Memories of a lover's heart ripped and thrown, Fading like the will to knock on the door And pick up the pieces that have now been outgrown. The blue sweater truly suited you - White stripes from a country not my own... It saw the sun rise over a ballsy victory or two Before sinking to the floor, heavier than stone. On the same stained floor lie clothes of the night, Once shared with love amongst you and I Till you lost your drive and all strength to fight While I abandoned the energy to cry. The cargo pants were his to rock, Dotted with pockets to carry his smile... Now it lies lopsided, contorted like a keyless lock, Only to be stepped on with scorn every once in a while. And there - a friend's jade jerkin, a union's sign, Both still thriving and alive, Though now I can call neither of them mine - Too tired to buzz with the busy bees of the hive. That black jacket was a gift from the dead To provide an illusion of warmth in a land of sn...