Sfumato

In the horror

The camera narrates.

If you want proof,

You want proof.

Cut out a heart.

Cut out a heart

With your scissors,

Valentine,

Say good-bye.

On the walls, mania

Of Vogue scrap.

The water is boiling now.

A red kettle

On a hot plate

Then nothing.

Then memory

Shatters you back.

You will not leave

Your way up

The stairs,

Tilting

Into your needle,

Your first

Person.