Wither

the taste of
our conversation
in my mouth
felt like I was
chewing on a trophy. atrophy;
metal anger, ceramic tantrum
dust and all weather wilt.
wither, with her
we blew, we blasted
only a few lasted.
for fade is
the beginning of
blight and decay.
to this day
with her, wither.
we tar-
wood and coal
carbon and resins.
we with her,
wither.
that’s where we lessen

leonell echa