End of a morning folded
An abandoned air in it's retreat
I moved now in half in-completion
Coming across like an unfinished life

I had always moved to un-finish
It was the kiss that leaned on
All my stanzas
That were now stuck in my brain 
A flower struggling to float
I thought to write a poem
On the night
And a window
So some day when she looked back in
I would still be there in a photograph
Coming across like an unfinished life