We walk across barren rock,
The earth’s skin, exposed and cracked.
We’re hot with precipitation –
hair cellophane-wrapping
our unfamiliar skulls.
I sing to the sky, a lullaby
for a clearer horizon.
We don’t hold hands as I recall
what you told me months ago,
the saddest things.
I sang to the sky then too. Her answer
was to bring you here on the wind,
with smiles like a pearl necklace
around your neck.