Why would I ever unburn the wire
we strung between our ribs—
feel it still hum, a red ghost
singing through my shirt.
I taste the storm we brewed,
silver rain still fizzing on my tongue;
every drop spells your name
backwards like a warning.
I walk the cracked tracks
where we kissed the train good-bye,
carrying the echo in my cheek—
louder than tomorrow,
smaller than forever.