There is a tree outside my tree. Here I am in the thick of nothing. When you left, it was like a huge red balloon had exploded noiselessly. Below the highest branch are ten more branches. It makes me feel tiny how cactus pinches up. In the middle of the movie, the other woman enters wearing a little dress and little else. I draw two towers made of ghost. My cats begin to doubt that I will ever feed them again. The last time I saw you you were talking about medicine. I consider filing a complaint. I buy no-name drugs and tell it to the camera. My landlord stops by with boxes for all your letters. How it does not rain. I pack you up in two beautiful boxes. I circle the fire department but no longer have anything sexual to say. A tree grows outside my tree. The last time we fucked we fucked like you were fire and I was fire and so I become a firebreather overnight. I listen to Springsteen and stomp the floor with my thumb in my mouth. I love you because you are that rain and do not come.