Rosalind, with the bedroom of her heart (blackout poetry)

The light flickers in my bedroom

as I brush my hair;

I remember that theory that it’s someone dead trying to speak to you,

I’m sure it’s just a thing from movies.

The light flickers again in the bathroom 

live in the moment

i'm trying so hard to look 

   at you

and not to think of the possibilities i know

   i can't have,

all the things you rejected the moment

Hello Summer,

I see you on the boardwalk;

In every screw, and plank, and scratch,

Your every nook and my personality match. 

Hello Summer,

When you're sad, your hot tears shed