if this is what is happening now, then
i want to be awake for it.
You. & your cherub’s face. the way your
voice darts around words. the coy
rhythm.
Me. & my sinking ship. the way i move,
like a hiccupping pick-up truck. its
haphazard melody.
we can sit & watch over the city, if you
promise to hold water in the palm of your
hand.
She. & her humming machinery. the
way she ticks, brazen in lunar-
light. the rattle of traffic.
Us. & our legs, stretched taut on the
grass. loose limbs, twinned on
a spring balcony. the soil sighs.
(& crickets chime into our heartbeat.)