she beats at his door
but steps back to the curb
he offers her home
she declines
“come outside” she petitions
her hands hold a mirror reflecting the moon
she cuts it with a blade and offers a line
one for him
four for her
tolerance is high after all
the powder stings but her smile offers relief
the door has shut behind him
she knew it would, and she’s amused by her prophecy
the temperature dips
optimism made him cold
he walks back to the steps and turns
the mirror now reflects his eyes
she smiles and stares
the blade moves
this time, he isn’t asked to stay
