Today I breathe in dust
Dry woodchip and crumbled plaster.
This air is hollow,
Full of empty answers to what I ask her.
Deep black eyes and a smear of lipstick
Where the page was torn.
The phone fell over,
Needled words scrape my throat like thorns
Walk away
Walk up
Loop it
Lose it
Did she drop?
Or did she rise
And say goodnight.
