I remember the night we tried and tried.
And woke up with a silvery glow because despite
our trying there was too much there for us to deny.

I remember carving ourselves into the city streets.
We were the space between the moon and the sun.

I remember ignoring the warning burns and creating sparks anyway.

I remember the sleepy songs, and how you never used to sleep.

I remember how we laughed and walked and lay and ate hot food and bit and scratched and flew and wore no clothes and ached and healed and loved.

I remember trying to imagine a world with no air.

I remember learning how to be still, and I remember how when I’m in your arms I feel at home.