amsterdam

i will, he will, she will
perhaps amongst the blinding lights
or quiet galleries.
night, tucked up in twin beds
and the creepers.
a pencil woven into faded red,
your eyes outlined in kohl
as we traverse the streets.
i am leaving her in amsterdam.
we cannot venture,
disturb our minds,
for his dark eyes still stare--
the hollows still frighten me
marks yet to fade.
so i picture sunset evenings
eye contact, numb with the wine
i picture your face and mine.