Condensation

words forced out
are spectres in the air
hanging.
they crown your head
circling like vultures
eat me eat me eat me.
feathers twitch in the cacophony of silence
as you give up
and lay your head on mine.
we are a city
a picnic-blanket landscape
strewn with cherry stems and eggshells.
we are checked--
red-and-white
back-and-forth
black-and-blue.
swing swing swing push.
there you go, now just hang
until your arms give out.
I'll catch you!
I promise.
sort of.
it's reciprocation, after all.
give-and-get.
I lost every receipt, love
so now we're just jumbled
piled between the bricks
of frustration, of desire.
...wait, what?
but you said...
damnit.
no.
collapse into our blanket cocoon
our pillow canoe
our net of limbs
our net of lies.
tumble back into the haze
of tiny bubbles
of criss-crossed crystal
of amber energy.
melt me.
yes, I am a puddle of mush.
sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiding.
let's make it a shindig
we'll be slush in the streets
dissolve in the heat
of tumbling truths
that haunt your mouth.
there are ghosts in the air
spirits on the windows.
every apparition staring me down
with their empty accusing eyes.
it was a failed exorcism
that only forced your spectres
into my ears, instead.