this is water.

after midnight

let the leftovers rot.
let the last candle burn.

let the clocks think
whatever they want.

this is the night,
says the night, you were given.

the hour, each hour,
you’ve lost.

so lean into me, love
kiss the blue children.

come cast our brief
shadows together.

let the wet branches lash
the black windows like death.

let me lie down
beside you forever.

you will eat

you will eat,
you will laugh at stupid things,
you will stay up all night just to see what it feels like,
you will fall painfully in love,
you will have babies of your own,
you will doubt and regret and yearn and keep a secret.
you will get old and decrepit,
and you will die,
exhausted from all that living.

that is when you get to die.

not now.

 

i wanted to skim over that night,
calcifying my shame into something blurry

and manageable,

like a rumor about a stranger.