rustling out of the brush of trees that grow along the side of houses and take root beneath the foundation and raise the edge until the walls crack and my fingers fit between the frame and the beam and she yawns listlessly and sleepy as i break my back with the struggle with pushing it all back in and i cannot put it all back in, and she says, why don’t you throw your back into it, and i laugh this hoarse whisper cursing your name and everything that came with it when you gave it to me