Between bitter howls and bone-chilling cries, the aged trees shake out dust from Orion having snagged onto their sleeves during the night.

We are too vulnerable. I have felt your sighs, the slightest pressure of your lips leave me shivering—barren. You stroked my cheek as though I were a fading memory soon to vanish before your eyes.

All nerves are aflame, the aches persist; every hollowed space among my bones murmurs an afterthought where your body should be.