storms

pilot light flickers you pray
the blue flame holds
steady in the tornado

shirt unspools before the dryer
tv station fades between channels
asthma
and the lung walls cling

holding the thread
looking for the cloth it used to be

straw? dry air? stuffing?
what holds together
this ghost of dry coughs

a heart once sang
now i crouch by the dial
leaning in to find a frequency
to hear you
speaking
meek
as a mouse quiver
whispering mumbles

i look for you in that tall body
and find only a mouse
gasping for air
in the hollow
of your big toe