Over the end, the static hums like neon rain,
we solder our ghosts to the last outbound train.
Pixels of you flicker in the cracked windowpane,
I breathe in the glitch and exhale your name.
Skyscrapers lean, rehearsing their final collapse,
while dollar-store angels count heartbeats in laps.
We kiss through the glass of a screen going black,
promising love in the teeth of the crash.
Over the end, the credits roll uphill—
I hold your echo, intangible thrill.