LXIII.

fever in my joints.
fighting for light
that sunroof highway flying light
that cold coffee maps light
that early morning bike light
that printed paper walking concrete light
that stained feet dancing yelling light
that smiling secret faded hair light
that jeep on john king at midnight light

you were there in rovaniemi
in a sea of clouds
you were there in espresso and chocolate
sprinting through stockholm alive
you were there at the afternoon loft
in the blooming island market
you were there when he reminded me of the color of the sky.
blue.
as the stars began to show
coasting the trail between makeshift homes
my only home is you.