Day...who knows I lost track

Dear Ezekiel
Today is Tuesday
With falling leaves.
Our feet pace the cracked
Sidewalk flirting with the sound
Of our own laughter.
My lips are chapped and cracked
Unable to tell you what I have seen.

A side long glance and you unlock my thoughts
They seem to peel of the nape of my neck.

I had a nightmare
It was you and I spattered in dirt
Your parched eyes pierced my face
As drug needles to forearms.

We fell and we were falling
Off the precipice to the valley
Were only nightmares live.

I did not recognize
your face in that pile of
emaciated cheeks and sunken minds.
All around, broken limbs fell haphazard
off trees like ripe cherries.

And your fingers, dear Ezekiel,
Became cactuses
With each touch to murdered my skin
Yet your touch I called for;
Less numbness,
Begging for more of anything
you had to give.

Mmy tongue melted
Out of my mouth with a silent scream.
Foreign lips close around mine
Regurgitating the propaganda of a dry riverbed.

Have we fallen too far Ezekiel?
In desperation your hand around my neck
Have we fallen too far past the giver of breath?

Taste me again without distance
Taste my mouth with sand
and be nourished by the vacuum that
succeeds as a pillar in my abdomen.

Remember how my pupils
Search your face at the contact of our lips.

The is no rustle of leaves
Only dropping fingernails
Scattered on dry mud.

There is no sidewalk
Only the spirits of fallen men
Whose vertebrae we walk on.

Peel these thoughtless prayers
From the top of my concave
Shoulder blades
For I am to sleep tonight.

Dearest Ezekiel
I had a dream that once we saw light.