Wind and crickets
lately are synonymous.
This is like the rain
of two summer’s ago,
as it demands my attention,
and I don’t find out why.
When I’m alone,
I need to hear my echo.

It’s in the way that you say it.
The reason I like it.
When you say that you
hate me.

I bet if I was you,
I would see shit you see.
Still would make sense to me.

If you were here with me-
this is like the dry air,
and potential hurricanes
we find in falls in Florida.

If you were here with me,
I’d know why you came back.