black and white photographs, shot with your phone

A haunting/

was what our eyes did every night/ caught

in the dark & the shadows that play

it is beatle season & they creep in under the doors,

out of the damp/

I find the blur of my face again/

hued tones of youth's restless rage

back when I did not struggle wrapping my teeth around

//

we mute ourselves for the world,

sometimes/

& it is not the world's fault

but who have we become

in those silent spaces of light.

August does not know the word for easy

she blazes hot, feverish/

gets under your skin until you cannot stand it

& still,

where to go

for anything

coded blue?

The monsoons sweep in,

we dance in the rain.