don't fall out

the window was cracked wide

and the screen removed

i was leaning

arched over the sill

exhaling

a lit cigarette glowing orange in my face

illuminating the knuckles of my fingers

but i looked down

and dew reflected the patches of light

collected from basement windows and guttering street lamps

they looked like stars of the earth

there were constellations

not a replica of the sky's, of course

no belts, no dippers

but images of those passed

strewn throughout the leaves and blades

old life gazed up

forgotten apologies

and grudges never let go

lessons learned, although too late

those that once were, reminding me

to scribble

scribe

scrawl

before my fingers go limp like the wet grass

clinging to the stars