The paint is dry, we've closed the vein to rinse the brush and go again but still I know I've got the stain and maybe you do too. I found the stomach to deny the urge to look you up online don't want to creep on your profile but sometimes I still do. Maybe I'll see you on the cold moon we'll meet again beneath the cold moon thin windows fill my room with silver from the cold cold moon. In the mirror here and there I catch a flash of silverware I shake my back to try to clear the table set for two.