What happened that night when stars went out
and the sky prolapsed its heavy conspiring death upon us?
Aurora Borealis of a mythical situation,
How beings get so close so as to explore
What is both tainted yet new.
Between folds of flesh lie secrets
That even those married for many years keep from one another.
It is as if living the life of a spy, telling no one of your odd loves
And cherishments, that slight tinge of hope at the dribbling slice of something
You are unable to disclose. This is my rapture,
My secret when no matter how bad a time may be
I proclaim that I love my enemies with the deepest hope.
Oh, but you don’t understand and of course, I will not divulge
How many ‘love you’s’ spent over the years in the sheer
Moment of feeling more alive than ever
And yet forgetting that the alignment of stars
Is both fragmentary and temporary.