If you speak alone to yourself, how can you tell it’s not in your head?

The purple light at dusk is just a way to register longing.

Purple breath lingers sound & escapes her chest cavity.

Goodbye to grief, she says, but doesn't believe it, or

why must she...say pandemic goodbyes over & over?

This year that the calendar cut away from itself

facial masks, clear screens, blue plastic gloves, fists & elbow bumps,

and a cryptic message on her phone: Voyage around X...

texts about trees & fire burning skin—where is the sun?

Day had concluded again, too soon.

Into the moon night-stars aflame

Into her dreams old fears bleed

baby coos, booboos, tears, sobs & laughter.

What do you throw in the fire that is built outside your door?