Nothing to See

I am deep-throated growl
Seeping from imagination
And spilling my shadow
Into streets

I am the attic trunk
Above hidden stairs
Locking truth from memory
And backspacing
The remainder

I am equations
Once learned
Blossoming wilt
Across yesterday
And tomorrow

I am the postscript
Of a letter
Never written
And a reminder
At no time heard

I am curled lips
Wishing the words
Could be inhaled
Like any other breath
And forgotten