Slow the jewels, you sent spinning,
Glinting, incessant and bright.
Blinding, if not for your
Sympathetic silhouette
Shredding the steam,
Silently static.
When you were so sure, that
We weren't what you wanted,
My nails dug in deeper, and
Brown hair turned red.
Cackle back, if you're with it.
Sometimes sleep steals me,
Still on the sofa.
Surprisingly sedated,
Sustained by the echo of
Your voice, off walls too-familiar.
There's not enough fiction,
Spicing up this
Modern Real. But your
Smile is a story that I'll
Never tire of writing.
Did we get stuck on the
Long count to thirty? Did we
Lose our place, looking in the
Right City, to stay up?
Or did you hear that? I swear,
These dead-end hearts just
Shared a beat.
Listen, the camera couldn't
Get a good picture, but
Tonight the Moon looked
Like a lemon-wedge. And
I'm lying in bed, awake,
Hoping you saw it.
