in the cleanest dream i had of moon
we dived into the deepest end of pool
he never left my side,
his brief was blue

underwater glimmer held me accountable
for things i longed the most, for things i wished for the most
such as fingers of my moon,
the many hearts of my moon in mine

you see, i wanted more than i could swallow
because i longed to be annihilated by those i loved
but underwater still, we held hands

i wanted to ask – why are you here?
we're seven feet below the surface of the water,
and decided not to ask – having you there was enough

as florentia, in another time we abandoned, he wrote me:
this need for affection kills
when you just can't afford love