Golden light pours onto us
Like a baptism by dawn
This moment always feels holy
And I can hear Church bells ringing
But they haven’t woken you.
                     Thankfully.
Because the world is still now
Nothing matters but this.
And I can just gaze at you
In wonderment, in enchantment
Like a holy shrine
Blessed to everyone near you,
But still only mine.

When you wake up we’ll leave this place
Find Jacques or Pierre at the Cafe
He will already know our order
It will be the same as every other morning
I’ll read a newspaper
                   And say
real smart stuff about the economy,
Or war in the Middle East,
And hope you’re impressed,
And crack a joke here and there
So I can see your smile and hear you laugh.
I can’t see anything past that      
From lying here in our bedroom.

Beneath our window
On cobblestone streets
People are speaking French
We may never understand them,
But when we walk those streets,
                        We know.
They’re talking about
How beautiful we are
And of course how American too.
We’ll never fit in, but that’s okay
Because Paris is ours anyway
I see it when I look in your eyes
And nowhere’s ever felt more like home.

Youll **** your self up
If your folks didn’t already
Staring into mirrors
Like they’re another universe
Frozen in the cosmic horror
Of you and everything you are
Hour after hour.
A stubborn *******
With a mind full of bees.
But you’ll find ways
To look at the ceiling
As you put on mascara
And focus on the background
As you paint your lips red.
Excuse yourself when Grandma
Pulls out the family photo album.
And time will not wait
The earth will turn
Dynasties will end
Wars will be fought
Your sister will move out
Grandma will die.
And you’ll never really see any of it
As long as you just stare into mirrors
Through bloodshot eyes
And don’t learn you don’t always
Need to just
Tear yourself open
And bleed everywhere

I said it in moments of crisis,
But never when you wished or wanted.
Always to your shut door.
Admittedly, never looking into your irises.

I will always think of the things I lack.
Always wonder if you felt anything at all.
Always wonder what you thought.
Those times you didn’t say it back.