Days drift like smoke through the cracks in the blinds,
your ghost in the coffee, your laugh in the wires.
I talk to the ceiling, it answers in rain,
counting the heartbeats that never complain.
Sunset rewinds us, a reel stuck on play—
I reach through the static, you shimmer away.
Night folds the city in indigo seams,
I sleep with the echo of unfinished dreams.