Unwitting Valentine

The sunlight rips through

the overcast skies

of my concious.

through the crack

in the closet door

warming the claw marks

inside my eyelids

the puppet seems

to have walked

in on his master untangling

her strings

but sometimes

when I am watching

the silhoutte

in her bedroom window

I think of leaning over her

while she sleeps

and licking the heroin

off her lips.