there are questions in your eyes
a trail of smoke leaks out
of the lips that called my name
when the air wasn't so cold
when flowers grew in concrete
when the water was rich; i miss
those words that fell out
like jewel drops but never rich.

(the cheapening of love is
what drew me away; come back
to me, let's build wealth again)

how could you forget who i am
did the smoke trail smudge
the zeroes and ones in your brain
did you forget the fresh air
and how the taste of laughter
against my teeth helped to fade
our fear of saying goodbye?