he loves to talk on the phone
his voice is lemons
sweet and tangy
but the bitterness bites back

whole lifetimes hung on a ledge
we spent our school days balanced on the beam
but we were held together by a thin seam

I cant erase his voice
sometimes we all wish we could put
words back into our mouths.

past time, I threw the flowers out
you can hear the way theyd burn
the smoldering sound theyd make
falling into the grass

as if language could become solid
i am not so easily exchanged for another
last night I dreamt you loved my earrings
i awoke wanting to call you and to know
what music you listen to now

i am an ocean remembering
he is an ocean
the salt stings
but the waves still rock me to sleep

all day I kept turning to watch you
only to be met with an unfamiliar face
and a hole in my chest