The best part of the sun, where it melts away for its own reflection.
To prove something.
We stand in snake skin and
leopard print, digging for
bones of the extinct
while money blows up the noses
of our youth.
I thought about you today.
Your early reflection smoking
life into you,
black coffee lungs watching the sunrise bring life into
the rest of us.
My skin is hanging up now.
I am melting away for my reflection to do the same.
To prove something.
I’m going to be in love tonight
under this hidden moon
in this welcome season
just tonight
as this house creaks like
seventy year old bones,
as murders grow in awful hands,
as no one sets foot on
this same carpet.
I’m going to kiss warm lips tonight
of a living man
who breathes cold opinion
and holds me in his eyes,
who clears distance from hollow
rooms,
who says nothing,
who lays unknowingly, tonight, beside me
with no one around to overhear us.
I am going to make love tonight
to a suspect of betrayal,
to my heart’s gravity,
to a memory that has been
soaking in the fall.
Listen. It is perfectly safe.
Look around.
No one is near. It has been years
since I fell asleep with
my skin underneath him, falling,
falling in to some
confession, and tonight
I will not hear a sliver of his voice
and he will not know
that tonight’s moon will
cover up his absence,
for me.
maggiemaeijustsaythis 