Small Talk

The worst thing about rain is the

wanting to dance in it, and you

sixteen hours away, there are only

miles

and vast loneliness

between us.

When small talk

swells

the air in the room empties,

and the only breath is inside of

your body, but

it is not mine for having.

I think I broke my neck once, in a

past life.

I probably did it

craning

to see you.