Glass
by Caleb H.
· 01/01/2026
Published 01/01/2026 18:57
The lease is sitting on the rug.
I give the sliding bolt a tug.
A moth is brittle in the track.
I’m not sure if I’m coming back.
I used to watch the alley wall.
The way the shadows used to crawl.
A smudge is left where I would lean.
The glass is never really clean.