The roots of our ghosts lay in brittle earth
drinking up all that's left of a dry well
hungry, savage rainclouds
open-mouthed and empty
tongueless and sharp-toothed
the jagged claws of thirst
we can't swallow what's left of our conversations
your salt water lashes cling to each pause
the smallest ocean haunting me
storming a little
pouring deep into the spinal column
stripped bare like bark
peeling sheet after sheet
of collapsing microscopic webs
spiny snapped synapses I wish I could tear out violently
break, trash, ruin, I don't care
while caring so profoundly I can't breathe
I whisper car crash questions
and feel so far from myself
I can't even tell if I'm asking you anything
like thunder in the distance
lightning for a moment
each spark failing to jump the bridge for souls
a suicide note when we tangle ourselves
an EVP, "remember when **** was better—"
white noise between cracked lips
the loudest silence, too
what are we even listening for
this static electric current can't leap
from my mouth to yours with a kiss
even if our hands touched
even if you keep crying
even if there is nothing left
even if we planted ourselves right here
and we can't ever grow again