the sky is green and i'm cold
telephone wires string above me
and fold into sheet music,
birds sit like quarter notes and treble clefs.

my throat is burning
from the taste of your name
i thought my acid reflex had been gone
since i was eleven.

i cleared my hard drive today
four point two gigabytes
filled with the memory of you
are gone.

in the blink of an eye
you
are
lost.

*(a.m.c.)