we give each other tummy aches and

hot tea
       r
         s
          s
         s
for the sake of --
god, from the kitchen I hear you
laughing on the phone
and when you 
come to me embrace and
slightly whimper, there is a hand
that holds your throat

the ghost stealing your breath
is the bog that swells my flesh
is the mesh around her dream
of death, is the brick
we do not name