Sheets

The atmosphere became silk when the leaning tower finally fell.

Living in a phrase of yesterday's forget-me-nots and tomorrow's velveteen sunrise, I could watch those eyes in the palm of my hand and trace the movement of your mouth from our hideaway to my secrets. I'm holding on to the remedy for desire, which is two parts regret and not quite enough melancholy to make it worth while to lose this beautiful disaster. Breaking in through the unlocked gate, it's fate who greets the lawful and the poet who will lead the two of us home. 

If you wake me, I'll never sleep again. 

Because it's so addictive, your poignancy, and the way that everything fits, that I'm licking little dances off of the right side of what you left, since there was daylight in your eyes and nighttime in my fingertips. Standing bare foot on the concrete, there was music falling off your tongue and landing with little splashes so that the ocean became a technicolor fantasy version of your mind. I've tied anchors to my wrists and my ankles so that I won't float away every time you breathe.

You're a masterpiece's stolen wishful thinking and, when I look in from the outside, it seems that every possibility that has ever been a possibility is made possible because of you.

It fell around us, and for a moment inside of a breath, we were still.