Like a Letter, I'm Never Coming Back

No signs outside my window,
nothing to read into autumn.

The wind with such velocity,
it reminds me we’ve said too many things.

Most animals, most animals prefer silence.
The distances at which we know each other 
 
tell us little of how the dead know the earth.
Do you think restraint is a feeling you can aim with

when it’s bloodless at the center?
Do you think you have time?

I’m not sure what’s more important anymore,
our American past or future. And today is a thread

I’ve had in my mouth for too long.
Its color has dissolved on my tongue.

It no longer remembers the fabric it came from,
it no longer wants to remember at all.