Hit Or Miss

I fell asleep last night,
dreaming to the sunset
and willow-washing through the speaker of
a slightly-broken telephone.
I hear you in my dreams,
and now you're
f-following me around
like Thanksgiving smell
or the sight of a car crash.

Under moonlight,
I found inspiration,
and scribbled nothings on my wall.
Waking this morning,
I find that I forget every letter
I've ever seen or tasted on
this double edg'd tongue.
Do you remember the letters?

Apple cider mornings can
ruin summer days.
All I'm praying for is
the escape of dreaming up your voice.