we're older now
and you can tell by the photographs lingering from years past
emanating that unusual tension
of words unseen and waiting for life,
popping like granules of sugar between my teeth.
we rise and we sink
like beauty in time, distant and far removed,
hanging by strings of voice across planes looking to fold
just to tighten some lost proximity left over from before.
you know, its beautiful
when you sleep to dream in the dirt beneath
some unfathomable starlit canopy,
but its all the same in comfort
looking up at a nylon sky breathing in
the unobtrusive tones of green and grey
that make the red stone walls outside
seem even more monumental than we never imagined.
the sun that rises with my eyes drips slowly down
the back of your neck
where i ran my fingers before i fell asleep,
enfolded in the thick of you.