sudden rain

tell me when you're coming.
there had been marbles
in the sky.
we walked on ripe pear feet.
blood or nectar. you had the radio
in your throat. i was calling you
on a tin can across the ocean.
do not test the sky. you should never
test the sky. it turned black 
like spilled pupils. i leave messages.
you are not coming. it is just me
in a terrarium of plastic trees.
i tell myself my life can be
as small as i need it. can fit
in a purse. can live in a closet
that smells like moths. i am not
sleeping in my car. 
instead, my car is sleeping 
in me. the tires always spinning.
i wake up with a hunger for gambling.
the air full of veils. when the sky breaks
it throws plates. it tells me,
"you knew it was over." a plane
or a butterfly ghost. is that way you used
to leave? i do not have that luxury.
i am standing in the middle 
of a sudden rain. the umbrella turns
into a pummeled mouth. 
cracked teeth. nothing between 
me & the downpour. salamander skin.
calling you through a river. 
you do not pick up. you are not coming
but tell me when you are.
when you're next knelt 
& swallowing handfuls 
of the fattened moon. i will be there
with my dead bird in my hand. 
i will tell you everything you missed.