P a c k r a t
 
A breath, perhaps, not human.
I would kill to scrape your angry flesh.
The angel refuses to say.
I came on your face
Every night we were together.
Stars rattling in a black box.
No information about the crash.
Please put everything in the house
As it was before I left.
Except the sea shell your lover gave you
That sat in the kitchen
Beside the new plague
Growing in a locket.
You had trouble
Throwing things away,
Lipstick phone numbers,
Poems scrawled on decoy flight plans,
Everything kept with such compulsive care,
Except me,
And still I am there
Stitching up your silences,
Melting into your pink sunsets,
Scratching up the walls of your dreams.

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