Passing Stations
someone playing the piano
in another world
uncages a bird of notes
touching down to make a gleaming necklace
around our horizontal embrace
but a physical reminder
my fingers pressed against the side of your neck
tells me a fever is coming
go see a doctor
work from home today
I say in all seriousness
we stay huddled on a moving train
chugging to its own inaudible music
neither of us must step out without the other
when the pianist stops
when the train pulls up breathlessly to its final station
After
losing my voice
to crows along the wall
haphazard choir warming up
to what was once your name
giving up all heart
to sheets wrestling on a pole
against the breeze
before falling to rest like a wave
leaving thought
between pages closing
in another book of dreams
memory has become
avowal’s true meaning
the two of us
that was once all of me
fading at last as I speak