Hanging in the orchid room
some smoke from someone's
clover leaf traffic jam
and disappearing words in
highlighter yellow scream
out from behind your eyelids
thinking, a memory, past fear

I don't know what to tell you
except that she's gone
and you've been sitting in
the same spot for three or four
hours and the ceiling is
falling around you

She only sleeps in specific
increments and watches
her feet, dangling off the side
of the tallest building she
can find, sweat dripping
through the marine layer below.