The ice that forms on the window
Cracks in spiderweb veins
That look just like shattered mirrors
Outside
The sky is flat and starless
As though the world
Has suddenly become a sealed box
Ever since you died
I have been unable to sleep
I sit by the French doors
In the big green and white armchair
The one with the matching ottoman
That you bought specifically for reading and stargazing
I stare up at the sky for a long time
Knowing that behind the blackness
Are planets and stars and galaxies
But I don’t believe in them anymore