Balmy nights and flirty eyes,
music on the beach in the evenings,
inhaling all the shitty air our lungs cling to,
his beating heart thousands of miles away,
the vines in the garden moist with expectation,
the promise of poetry before bedtime in the morning,
standing in line for a Savages set,
giving life back to music,
chasing this temperamental existence,
all the romanticism of modern living,
decadent eats on our table out in the street,
speeding home with the windows down,
our voices lost from earlier in the day,
the moon disappearing behind the skyscrapers,
silence befalls our spinning heads,
our love is sealed into the future,
we’re the children of summer.


I wonder if he remembers my face
as I’m pulled into the building of his current life
on a stretcher, my left leg bleeding openly
a superficial wound borne out of carelessness
in this foreign land I now call home.

Those flames licked the brick walls of its chimney
so eager to fly high into the cold evening
as I heard my friends laugh away the hours
and he sat there refusing to meet me halfway
but I saw fire burning inside that mountain.

Years have passed where we last glanced at each other
where we kissed as the sun rose above the clouds
before I sailed across the sea to another home
only remembering his face in passing conversation
although the memory distorts itself with time and space.

I stare at the ceiling wondering what I’ll do
before he comes into the room and looks at me
nothing registers between us until night draws in
and we open our eyes from our dark corners
and meet again for a cold winter’s love.


It’s infinite, this resurgence I ride from dusk to dawn, its embrace holding me close, so fierce and loyal and welcoming. It has no end, from the ground to the sky to the galaxy of stars above me, it goes into the world beyond my own existence. I run to the edge of that cloudy abyss, willing to jump when asked, knowing I would never get hurt, knowing it will never harm me. I am weightless in this moment, this millisecond of hopeful desire, this haze of dreamy content. I belong to it, I’ll fly into its folds and wrap myself in its darkness, I’ll keep riding this chariot into the starry night. I am high on its gaseous fumes of delight, its pure forms of joy. This is my moment of revelation, the point between two worlds. The curtains are drawn to show me who I really am and what I have to do.