My double-headed sonnet screams
his songs in verse outside onto the nighttime,
I'm alone within. Silently I draw
lines across my eyes. He told me which
shade always suited best. He told me
we would lie even in death.

And under fishhook stars we professed vows
we hoped that we could keep. Today
your face dawns side of grey, we're
blank. Red sky at morning and I know
to eat my breakfast and be on my
way.

How went that children's odd cliche?
Who would still say that two heads value
greater than a single thought from glass?
Sometimes I hurt in places I knew
you could see so that you'd see me,
too. But no, both faces turn within
and still, I'm waiting with closed
windowsill. The curtains drawn, I wake
and start my day. I cannot see the colour
of your voice, and so I can pretend
that you remember what it's like
to be in love with me.