LX.

strings swing and i'm stirring in my ribs
this bunk bed like the haven hostels
swelling morning as i limp out of sleep

and you, you had night terrors
there's so much you hide now
will you let me drive?
wash your dishes and buy your coffee?
even if it's just so i'm the last one in this state

i limp, feet melt into the carpet
knees crumble
as my lungs reach for air enough to scream
there's not space to fill
molecules of art museums
swedish gardens and trams at dusk
a letter in a mailbox, hiding somewhere for two years
an empty ballroom in the arctic circle
dancing with thoughts of shoreline dawn
(sea mist on a tent canopy)
(as we wake from burning stars and dreams)
(sea mist and sweat on your back)
(it's okay)
molecules of night walks
looking out from such great heights
carrying year-old forest thoughts up to the altar
can't dissolve all of it into this atmosphere
to breathe it in with just one body
and scream

" y o u    a r e    b e a u t i f u l "

(well, it's a long way out to reach the sea)
(but i'm sure i'll find you waiting there for me)
(and by the time i blink i'll see your wild arms swinging)
(just to meet me in the middle of the road)
(and you'll hold me like you'll never let me go)
(and in the sand and salty water i could hold you close)