The wind is juicy
black blister clouds roll over
tree-tops scratch names there

***

Vines slung across paths
divide the forest into
pauses in my breath

***

Smoking I catch cold
chaos in my throat before
we get eaten up

***

I always knew her
freckled small hands were singing
tongues I dreamed up once

***

Cinders of music
the sentences said something
under their hushed breath