he found it on a park bench.

one swallow, two.
colors start to bleed & the walls begin to pulse.
i left my heart in the parking garage.

i am beginning to understand the volume of the situation.

autumn is a time for rearranging; summer left me no chance.
i have newfound hope in words past spoken, promises made long ago.
i cling to them like window sills, climbing to the roof where i will find the sun.

our cigarettes swallow miles.
your window's bleeding yellow.
your june carter is slowly dying in suburbia.
i scream at the clouds through the windshield.
i feel the filter trees but don't give them enough time.

i am beginning to understand the volume of the situation.

so we put our mouths together & call it love.
our lips are moving; we must be communicating.

the carpet melted.