Where you are not

There is a place where you are
not, and I am
longing for the air that my lungs
refuse to take in as the walls
mock me, as the walls continue
to breathe, without you.

We jabbed those push-pins through the stucco
to make the place feel more

like us. We adorned it
with all the little cracks
that we found so charming
until we caused an earthquake

we could not reverse, but it was ours,
this place where the walls are left
inhaling, and I am not breathing,

and it is a place where you were

but I can’t hear you breathing

anymore.