Within the blue reflections // of the glass cabinet,
There stands that golden figure, // metallic,
Embracing the one, is loved.
Love's whirlpool, crimson-stained,
Washed with blue after twilight falls,
Inanimate, like flower petals scattered // at one's feet.
Eyes closed, leaning against // the lace curtains behind.

The metal crown atop resembling a cone,
subject to geometric constraints,
Iron threads sunset-tinged with copper oxide,
Standing upon the grassland.
Holding the beloved, I ask you,
Where does love belong?

A hand-sketched map on the wall,
Allegheny River to the left,
Written in a trembling script,
marks the place of your existence.

Head turned in longing,
the tractor's open cover bathes // in fading light,
Garden soil seeps through glass bricks,
falling in gentle waves,
Revealing cracks where sunlight spills,
too luminous for mortal eyes,
The lingering love,
flowing endlessly where hope slowly descends.