antennae

the neighborhood dogs
are gossiping to each other
about me. i radiate an unease,
hiccup as i almost spit up
more memories, stumbling
through empty streets with
arms full of pictures of us.
the stars are bleary-eyed
insects rubbing against
themselves, for love.
sirens erupt and then
simmer into the soupy
night. these full arms!
these things i kept of us!
they are falling out, these
pictures, they are flying
with iridescent wings, to sit
in the trees with the cicadas.
you aren't here, no, you aren't
here. oh god, where have we
gone? what happens to crickets
with broken legs?