Say we can escape these years as rain escapes
the sky in downpour. I want to remember us
the sky in downpour. I want to remember us
before our bed became a place to create somebody.
Before our bodies became little machines.
I want to tell you my greatest fear is leaving
nothing behind: the world as empty as I entered it.
Because, what is left for us then? If love stops
becoming? What if it’s just us?
You want someone to wear your name:
Proof that our bodies are more than lost hours.
