missing is honest.

a week ago,

only miles away

we were
untravelable.

—

after cataclysm,

we sat down
across my table
[strategically];

acknowledging
our broken
infrastructure.

having only
been
dismantled
of boredom
and spite,

we decided
to rebuild.

—

we climbed
down into
rubble pit
of that “us”.

two hoarders
sorting through
desolate pieces

kept “just in case
we might need
our ‘We’ one day.”

[how did

we get-
–this–
—bad?]

—

you asked if
i could Really
leave here

like
“here” was
a pronoun.

our voices,
tools

to craft
the words
we have
been unable

to do

with
our own
bare hands.

“which can
we reuse?

re-writing
instructions
on how to us.

—

you announced
your leave
of absence

with a…
| | space

and
i imagined
filling in
it’s blanks.

—

my mind
spilled out
my eyes

about how
the streets
are less
alive in

no possibility
of glimpsing
You drive by..