Parking Brake Lovers

Syllables hang like billboards
between us, freewayless and adjunct,
defunct and lonely. I espied
your eyelids closing, cataracts completely
enveloping opiate pools, drowning;
I felt fearful as I imagined
bodies screaming crashing from flight
into a white fluid maze of
bloodshot and waves.
I espied your eyes.

We look, as children
look in cemeteries, at one another,
lips and tongues and throats frozen -
I could have said pretty things,
I thought about it,
I could have said anything at all,
but the words couldn't find me

or I didn't search.
Eyes of children, functions
of effigies cracked, sick, and sad.

I thought about it:

words simple like billboards, a
slogan or phrase, but the wheel
wasn't turning, we weren't traveling,
maps and gas stations missed us,
and the sentences are often best
when not put together at all.