everything sings
the glass when you
flick the edge with your
finger, a transference
of kinetic energy
the horn of the car
laid on hard by the
irate driver who
doesn’t want to share
a lane
the ringing of the phone
as you wait for her to
pick up
the angels as they
try to stuff your soul
back into your body
because you are leaving
too soon
leaving
your soul sings
as you leave
