wilting
curling up
in upon
myself
in a
contradiction
of malfeasance
crisscrossing
spectral
insignificance
with a yearning
for the salt
on your flesh
tasting the air
for a hint
of home on
the howling gales
a cyclone of
whipping petals
slashing
angrily across
an empty
afternoon on
the pothole
ridden streets
a calamitous
convergence of
aching need
and growing
emptiness