were were all of us in love with the dark and closet doors
drawn to the feeling of close, of cold against warm
of drawn in, of quiet, of knees pulled up to chins
the world was too bright, too harsh for our eyes
and they never did find sunglasses to fit in the light
so we simply went out and bought our own
and wore them in the dark

and we go to parties every night
parties where silence is the music that plays
over out collective heartbeat drum set as it picks up pace
in empty rooms that carry sound
like a cast carries a broken arm–
gently, painfully, purposefully.
we go to parties where we sit
with our cheap sunglasses to protect our eyes
using darkness to shield us from darkness, and ties
that we know will have to be broken
so we just sit in the silence and listen

our bodies are canvases
for a thousand watercolor words left unsaid,
our knuckles are painted white and red,
our parties are places where the things in our heads
are proven to be real.
we are all of us in love with the dark and closet doors.