cruciform bedding

heavy atmosphere and the clicking of the typewriter, wondering if this is another door to close or a demand to stop. but right now she's the only thing that matters. i cannot forget the warmth of the carpet after she laid down in my room. now cold, i sit and feel as if itll make her reappear. she listened when the world was gone, and now i have the world to listen to me, if anyone is there at all. rest easy, angels in their white sheet gowns and fluttering pearl feathers always know best.