He speaks loudly because no one listens
to him expound on elaborate simplicities ?
why a window is clear like that,
why a car breaks down,
why it's a Good Thing.

Our conversations are airborne ash.
He says it looks like rain,
gazes back at me with my own eyes
and something else that's just his.

Blow me a kiss.
Here is a decoder ring in three
languages I can't read.
"Look," he breathes,
his hands full of feathers.



What?
"No? look."