photo: bedroom in Arcadia, CA

lie down and flex our toes // arms stretching towards an ache, // winding and unspooling at every muscle's whim // time babbling on in the low hum of our silence

I decide I've had enough of playing Angel and scrape limbs up off the carpet to settle down beside you.

lying cheek to chest // hair splayed vaguely beside, behind, and above us // cool air settling on our skin // everywhere // but where we rest against the other

I pinch your gray shirt between my fingers rub the fabric together, and your ribcage depresses.

lain inside a wide expanse of thinly filtered light // through windows onto skin // manufactured memories // brilliantly shadowed playrooms // where we spun while the world // failing to stand still

I roll over so my arms fold beneath my chin that tries to stab your chest, and you smile with your eyes closed.

waiting for the // // tick tock // // second chances? // // when did this become a game? // // pleas(e)?

And then someone makes a noise and you cave into your smile and when you open something breaks or maybe that something is someone and maybe that someone is me. And then you muse aloud that you wish everything could stay the same.

except nothing is // blinking // anymore.

"except nothing," i // curse-(or) // inside.

except nothing // will erase // this moment.

except not // all of // us were meant be mortal.

except // us. //

// // (I liked to dream.)