sunlight and midnight
lines the inside
of our chests

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rooms lit by storms
and midnight snow

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miss the sea glass
crumbling sunlight
in your eyes
knowing fire
through the smoke
of your songs
the tantrums
of your tenderness
how your steps
slowed
to match mine

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I won’t speak to you again
I will still sing to you
songs white as whispers
same frequency as ghosts

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smoke splices its tongue
more surface area
to taste the dark

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the ghost of fireflies
froth from the fractured minds
of the thistles
the burning breeze
flakes the fields

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use the scarred skin
of your heart
to scratch a match
awake
then light a candle
in the cave
reveal the stalagmite
and stalactite stretching
dripping
towards each other

eventually
the tips of their tongues
will touch
spark at the heart
of the dark
they share


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held together
by threadbare threads
my frayed feathers
stroke the sky
from the ground

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we breathe in
the dark of each other

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you are the stained light
staining the stone
the church ceiling
crumbled into cabbage whites
shadows shattered
into black butterflies

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you’re the barn owl
born from the ground bones of a bonfire
in the font turned firepit
at the heart of my crumbled cathedral

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to know light from my pages
reflected into your face
sunk into the sea glass of your eyes

to know light from your face
snowed blossom into the dark
of my words

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my heart
more cave and cavity now
waiting for the collapse

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lost

what I’ve not even

found

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