He spoke spirals of smoke,
He exhaled halos.

Heart beats like Morse code.

I inhaled residue,
and his voice like snow.

I remembered how
he crawled on all fours
along the walls
and thawed.

And I glued my palms
to wallpaper,
tongue-tied,
and listened, heard
everything
through cinder blocks.

In an empty room
stuffed
with
heavy sighs,

He spoke
all mirrors and smoke.