swallow the pill.
"this makes me happy?"
i smell our flowers
growing tired,
so tired of
late-night run-ins;
so bored
with sad memories,
but i would't trade them
even for the biggest diamond
for
your finger,
for
we are
the universe,
constantly expanding
our consciousness
of
the past,
last has yet to come;
i'd wait through the apocalypse
to see this through
and through
again
and
again
with you