There is an alley on Lombardy
where cars murder grass
and brick buildings stand tall on either side.
An ocean blue trashcan sticks out
beneath the window of a girl with a dog.
He wheezes as she kills
the cigarette in ash.
Confusion and sadness fill
their smoky clouds of thought that float
together, creating one.
The idea of leaving him alone
causes worries sharp as nails
to attack her focus. She packs his bag,
rubs his snout. Wind whispers soft slurs
that cause her skin to bubble.
Saying goodbye is hard, the backseat
gets stiff and lonely. Blossoming meadows
passed turn brown and withered. Trees grow
dull, with cracked bark. The ride turns
her stomach into a black hole
consuming every organ until she is empty
inside, the cell against her spine makes
the sound of a dead branch
her bones are hollow
her mind sings a song about
a girl and a dog and she smiles
as the metal door slides shut.