The arcana of why I fit so
Hopelessly comfortably
In your arms, it
Sits on the horizon
And slowly ties in, every detailed aspect of my
Life and purifies me. And creates this
Love that glorifies the, idea of
Falling face first into the
Earth..
Every so often I try to convince myself that I’d be
Less lost wandering aimlessly, alone, but
So much for the trail back. I’m never going home. I’ve
Soiled my hands, tangled my hair
Overrode plans, just so I could care
Recklessly for someone else again. And
I breathlessly ask you “Can we still be friends? If all of this
Gets sour, can we just pretend… that we
Had the best time of our lives…even as we watched
The whole thing end?” And
Without pause, you’re ready to speak
I step back, almost
Tripping on my own feet. You say
“Hey darling, we will always be friends, but
You and me?
Oh we won’t, in this sorta
Universe, ever end.”