“Wistful Residue”

A matchstick,

a prayer.

Both stuck in his teeth.

A suit hanging in his closet,

he won’t put it on.

Fingertips alight,

the only way to see the stars.

Dreams make him nervous,

lying naked on his bedside.

An unopened box of love letters,

for no one

in particular.

Don’t open your eyes.

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