I got a letter

I got a letter in the mail from you today
I brushed the envelop across my mouth
It tastes just like it used to

The train was passing rickety through a cornfield. I was cradled in its arms, headphones pumping strains of Nirvana into my ears. My mouth went dry, watching a bird look back from above. I clutched the walkman in my claw, an arm wound like rope around my waist. In my right hand I held a tiny brown speckled shell, which I rolled over and over. I was on my way to Davis, sun setting slow like honey behind me.

Insect

Your carapace
I put it in a stone pestle
and crushed it to a fine powder
The words never left my lips
We never talked it out
I plucked you from my back
like a scarab beetle and pulled
off your wings; I wear you
round my neck like a prize