There’s something nocturnal about our love.

The way I sit awake at 2 am dreaming of the perfect sunrise to paint you.
Or the way your lips always taste a little sweeter after 3 am.
It could be the way your mouth moves a little lower when we get closer to 4 am.
But maybes it’s the way you look when you fall asleep around 5 am.

I guess the simplicity of our relationship is what kept me around for so long.
But now I see the flaws and the possibilities of us never growing and it’s making me want to run.

Find someone who wants me at 7am when they just finish breakfast and are headed to work.
And they text me to check in by 8 am just to see how my day is going.
Or they sneak home on their break to kiss me at 9 am and whisper sweet nothings before leaving again.
It could be the way they text me again by 10am and tell me they love me when I head to work.

Maybe I just need a love that’s a bit brighter.

Wake up, head pounding,
throat on fire; the air's too bright.
Check where you are,
check what is on you
--clothing or otherwise--
hands croak for water, trembling weakly;
bottles of liquor, open at random;
pick your way through
the jungle of clothing;
single shoes scattered.
A book, earmarked maybe, from another life.

the ritual is like a dance foreshadowed by the first rush;
a smooth and soothing building block
characterizing my indulgence.
the room brightens and colorful shafts of light
surround my television in waves of heat.

my sun

filled my eyes with brightness

kept me warm at my coldest

gave me life

my sun