Doorbells

the patterns converge. rippling pistons in the back of her throat. choking on the words. he went there. all i wanted was to follow. in the footsteps of those fading ghosts.

everything was numbers. the mechanics were a breath away. but the idea. that's what did me in. the thought bigger than the prison i had built for it. so many the monsters in the cellar wanting to know their names.

i wish that i could tell them.

but all i know is when.

the rumble of motors turning lovers to strangers. the screech of the brakes. warning me not to forget.