#anyway. anyway. this is after Goncharov's death. Katya finda a letter he wrote to her hidden bejind the face of the grandfather clock—

[roxygobyebye]

she found a little letter

inside the casing of the clock

yellow paper and red wax seal

how long has he hidden it there?

she opens it and does not expect

the harsh yet sweeting words on the page

perfect cursive

written with his favourite fountain pen.

who is the man, Goncharov?

she has known him forever and yet never at all.

can she still recognise the man she married

or is his face blurred, lost in the crowd?

who is the man, Goncharov?

can she remember a single thing

besides the clock and the late nights smoking

and the smoking guns and blood?

she comes back to herself, ponders not the man

and ghosts her fingers over the paper,

drags her nails across ink splotched by

a dead husband's tears:

"Katya

for what is left of me, for our sakes

for god's sake, woman

remember to watch your own back."

the grandfather clock ticks on.