The sun moves in pink streaks across the sky

And I adrift in youthful memories of love and irreplaceable wounds 

Rise 

Stand at the window and remember 

Open the latch and lean out in the cool air 

Well aware of death down below 

Of my own teetering 

Choices of destructions a tilt away

And I look at the pink in the sky 

as even now it disappears 

turns to purple to the expectant gray blue of a morning 

Like a secret I wrap it shut 

And go to wash myself clean