Darkness swallows me whole
while dingy little bits of regret
cling to my aerated body like
lint and
it turns to stardust on my lapel
a strange smell of orange mist
singing through my fingers
trying to grasp
the cusp of reality
and how you appear in it.

You really are here,
aren’t you.

And it feels so comfortable
to be near you
touching, like starlight or stardust;
combusting and subtle
warm and real in every way.

I hide my voracity well.

Now I sift through heavy fog
on the cloudiest of days
where car lights can’t beam
trying to find my way home

so sudden, it seems
to last for longer
than it is

hidden

and you’re changing

for the better
becoming more you
than you’ve ever been
in your entire life.

And I’ll be here
right by your side
pushing away the darkness
like a velvet curtain parting
but it’s unclear if the show is just starting and so

should I take a seat?
(and wait)

or get up on stage?
(and perform)

Funny how slow life goes
if you let it play out on pace.

And it feels so wonderful to be near you, to hear you, to see your beautiful face

voice and vocal chords misplaced
we are opposites in every way
and yet

I won’t let the darkness take me
to a place I’ve been before

I’m too grown up for that kind of
devoured piece of sadness anymore so

explain to me why dynamite refuses to go off

even when the wick is lit
even when it’s ready

to be brightness

but do I really need darkness to tell me that I’m lost?

Because, honestly, I know exactly where I am

I’m in love.