A shorter shadow.

With the coming of my twilight here, and
In the waning of this terrible light
My shadow is slowly disappearing from this place:
First a couch,
A box of clothing six sizes too big
Some books that weren't mine,
and then an unanswered phone call - an unintentional goodbye.

The yoyo that had been released and dragging
Knotted up in best's fingers--
It's string is cut squarely in two: so that I may attempt
To tie up loose ends.
Square knots, sloppy, and like a little girl, clumsy
So that no matter how hard I try to make my double knots overlap
They fall separate, form a chain
Look like bedsheets dangling
from my 3rd floor window outside of the train station:
An escape.