The sun drizzled into the sea–

a meeting like butterfly kisses.

 

Soaked in gold,

you curled your fingers into mine

and we wandered into the sky.

 

And I remembered when

Apollo stole turquoise from the swell

to craft your aster eyes

 

And promised me

a life like Spanish guitar

and raspberries.

 

I’ll smear them on my lips

So I can taste like summertime.

And I’ll let my heels char by the stars.

Or maybe, I’ll fall into your soul

And find

Unkempt hair and dandelions.

 

I love you.

Atleast, I think, I could.

 

Now, Sleep won’t follow, so

I walk on words.

The moon carves into my chest.

I’m nothing, but hummingbirds.

 

I feel like 2:00 am

Crumbling into morning,

Laughing at all the tragedy that makes you cry.

 

Light leaks in through the blinds.
The stale and yellowing map sighs.
The universe swells in the gap between your teeth.

 

And I believe in feeling.
Like cigarette burns and crimson.
Like fuck yes, I’m conscious.
Like atoms dripping from your aster eyes.

I used to dance on tombstones.
Now, I’m almost alive.