My Antoine poem. I'd love some advice here! Are these pieces too disconnected?
Evidence,
A trash can lies warped of the gray cement.
The contents of its belly liter the projects.
Discarded now,
the ladder had fulifilled its purpose.
But he didn't bother to clean after himself,
No need, he'd get what he wanted,
then split faster than a window's crack.
Evidence,
She has his white t-shirt,
shredded by her unkempt nails.
His finger prints left purple
kisses on her body.
She watches the scene behind closed lids,
the real damage is there.
Check the window, keep him out.
Don't let his breath caress her face again
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