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.