she has trees for veins

“It was the end of something”

she said

as she shuffled the cards

the click of each one

tapping against the wooden table

droplets race down green glass windows

i count the number of wins

cattails drooled

as they took their afternoon nap

in the nearby vacant lot 

and it started to come down even harder

flattening the grass in the city park

where the wildflowers grow in the summer

a car passed

in the nearby mist

the sound like sugar

sliding out of packages.

her lips moved

but nothing

came out

droplets race down green glass windows

i count the number of wins

she choked on the smell

of wet asphalt

she melted into the sidewalk chalk

and ran away into the gutter

a kaleidoscope of color

that night i sighed

multiple times

drowning my face in cold pillows

sinking

into various shades of blue

all I could see

was a picasso painting

of you and me

i awoke to the golden rays of a morning sun

and steam

rising from the blackened streets

the smell lingered in my bed sheets.

evaporation and condensation danced together in defeat

and finally I could find peace,

in the pitter patter of her sadness.

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no one is more beautiful than my dear Seattle,

her tears allow me to sleep