Lately

She said "yes", he writes in that melodic way of his, and the years tumble out from under your ragged soles, turn to grains of dust underneath your finger nails he has
built a whole life while you were
idling,
found a footing while you were
desperately clawing at the insides of
a ravine, you
look around the desert for signs of
life
but the dry wind
catches
in your throat and
the drops of dew were
not
yours to put on your
tongue, they

turn to wildfire in his
absence,
send smoke signals across the
county lines, saying

I thought we grappled with the crumbling
columns
together

The desert returns with
nothing but
dustbowls

for answers.