She made her home in florescents
He was comforted by darkness
They were both okay with nothing
But I didn't inherit nearsightedness

I won't be drug under gravestones
I won't be untangled by a mess
I don't want your hand-me-down tears
Or your legacy of unhappiness

peach coloured cheeks
sweet tea lips pink and sugary
georgia, oh georgia
a song buzzing on the highways

true love bleeding rubies
gems and glitter
love and need
cuddling under florescents

dream state
all this time i have been set ablaze
shocked

electric shock from firecracker veins
transmitting energy from my soul to yours
soft skin
one hundred percent cotton

i ran away when there was no place i wanted to be
but here

Electric spark seething, gas stove leaking, dial emergency hotline, radio silence, hang up, I'm fine.
We have take-off.
Confined at the exhaustive edge of a panic attack,
I trail the menstrually-stained duvet I bought for us at Ikea behind my trembling heels
as I arrive to stand over you in the living room
and watch you sleep on the International Orange love seat
your mother gave us when we moved in together.
It hurts to think you loved and lusted before our universe came to be,
the flame lit under my lungs reigning supreme
over the way you look at me every day, if only for a moment.
I turn off the harsh florescents
casting unfriendly shadows
from the back of my head
and revolve innumerable times
as I lie helpless in your pull,
a gravitational force luring me
to softly run my fingertips
across the nape of your neck,
where the hair I helped shave off last week is beginning to sprout up again, bristling.
I drop to my knees, dumbfounded by the duality of this moment, our togetherness permeated
by an occasional snore indicating that you still sleep in peace
while I agonize that you would ever stop loving me,
the NASA documentary we watched before you dozed off
overriding our perfect display of domestic tranquility with

CHALLENGER,
COLUMBIA,
APOLLO ONE.

This is what I remember:
The planks leaned against the wall
would fall if we weren't careful
Tarzan swinging on the frayed black snakes
that coiled around the beams
because if they could still power florescents  
no one ever told us.
We shattered the old windows stacked in the briers
to make our new home shimmer
when we set the hay ablaze
because if they were going to use them for the house
no one ever told us.
We heard dad call the
pit of snakes insulation
but we killed them all with shovels,
couldn't risk it.
Never knowing the real snakes
were slipping under the front door
and though big brothers might have known
we were fighting the wrong war
no one ever told us.
Or maybe we don't remember
when you said to be careful in the barn
but to go ahead and play out there
and not to hurry home.

Black bats beat
Blast beats with black wings against a
Black moon.
I stare at the blood on my hands
In an effort to feel close to you.
I hold my scratched skin
To the florescents
And study the funeral card for the event
I never got to attend.
You and I were only carrion here,
Buzzards floating close enough to touch
Our pale eyelashes.
But you,
Sweet boy,
Quiet boy,
Secretive boy-
Were smart enough
And strong enough
To leave.