i slept next to your broken wrist and dreamt i was a vine 
that grew out of a lovers' kiss and wrapped around your 
spine. will you stay in my life? i wish we were tied 
together sometimes. entwined by a family line. i wish i 
was your sister sometimes like tonight. i'd dry your 
eyes, you'd cough and then smile and say you'd be all 
right. will you be all right? i'd trace the tatoo on the 
back of your neck, there's a picture drawn there of the 
place you left, whre you cannot see it but you can't 
forget. it's there permanently like a badge of regret. 
there's a row of ocean shells where there should be a 
garden. one for each whispered word you could tell me, 
one for each secret. so on shell stars in a dirt sky, i 
wish you'd trade your secrets for mine. i'd plant them 
and in time flowers would bloom and burst through the 
room where we'd lie, they'd cover our eyes, i'd ve that 
vine, the sun would shine in an endless spingtime. but 
for now the flower pots only hold cigarette-butts. 
there's a headstone above the nights we talked. there's a 
different name whispered in your yard, but it sounds the 
same as the one you want. and now i feel so overwhelmed, 
i had to sit out by myself on the curb beside your house, 
with my collar in my mouth. and the feelings that i felt, 
i had to lay them all out in chalk-writing on the ground, 
for you to step around. and the rain that ends the 
drought and would've let our seeds sprout will just wash 
my words out.