I still see you on my ceiling. From my back on late nights when the sinning is done. Streetlight slinking white and naked between the blinds. Across the crack in the far corner. Across the crack that runs through everything. Full bodied and lusty. In which outside gets. Welcomes a stink. Pools in corners. Leaves a ring around the tub. You hang above it like a vapour. Like a web in which you wait.