We dance like beasts near the edge of light. I kiss
the throne of you in gratitude, what love
we might find in this small window we call
home. My hands, padlocked to yours, we are
a concerning type of forever. Whether I am bound
to you or your ghost, I shall not depart. I apologize,
I have started from happiness again. But how
could I not, when I only know of you? This morning,
when I wake to burnt toast and smoke lingers
like perfume and I grace the kitchen in yesterday’s
briefs and I grab your hand to twirl you to the song
of bacon as it cooks on our decaying stove, I will
tilt my head toward yours to kiss your cheek and
promise tomorrow I will restock our pantry.
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