We belong in this time
of wonder and questioning,
calling strangers home,
and dripping wax seals
on unsent DM's to Diplo.
My algorithm is broken
because I felt safe with you,
after we swam naked in the
Mediterranean Sea at 3AM,
and gave up on planning.
We belong to the sweaty beats
at Electric Island, and the
voices that tell us to slow down.
My voice is broken but bold,
carrying you to solutions
that look like truths.
We belong to no one
but ourselves.