All things are held together in the dark
with desperation and a twist of wire.
Why fix it till it's actually on fire,
or breaks in ways that leave no outward mark?
A thirsty dog drinks water, splashing loud;
devices cry for power till they die;
a tree's roots shrug through concrete streets, and I
hunt for familiar faces in the crowd.
All souls are bound together - but by what?
The whispered shout, I AM, within the skull?
Some secret note, impossible to know,
hummed in blind bone - warm, twisting through the gut?
My heart still hungers, though my belly's full,
for that ghost smile, before you say "hello."