pressed up against this wall,
the world looks so narrow

and my own breath
is fogging my vision.

ii.

where are
you?

iii.

goodbye,
i said.

iv.

but never meant
a single word.

if you value
your time.

and pulled scabs
from our fingertips;

Sundays drag on
for so long
when you’re choking
on words

you can’t say.

we yawn together
like conjoined twins,

the corners of our mouths
hurt
from laughing at
our misfortunes.

roads can only take us
so far, but
the real crossroads
are on our lips.

came down
like hail;

and lullabies are floating
past our clenched teeth,

and feedback is wailing
through our our noses…

but we’re still
alive;

we’re still
in love.

it’s friday morning
and we’re on our way

to nowhere.

we are ashes,
we are dust

that collect raindrops
and morning dew

and
    drips
            down

into a charcoal
puddle.

and still, I
could not get the picture
of you

to burn with them.

we huddled along the anthills:
guitars in one hand, and
scraps of fading one-act plays
in the other.

we sang until
we sank into

the mud.