never wanted to open the window to her, last night. “own me, not her. make me your soul”, you said while she whispered on your glass window-pane. your closed windows trembled on her sweet, cold touch. “let her in, kelly”, i said moving my fingers through your hair. “let her in, if you love me.” and i found your eyes becoming just as hazy as your glass window-pane. but tears always meant you’d listen. you got up and opened the window to her. and as you stood motionless like a shadowy figure in front of the window, i found the summer breeze glowing on your skin and the shine returning 