In which A and B write epistolary poetry at 4:06am
Always awake, / always talking about prose and faces, / always orange skies, / always one leg on the top of blankets, / always dreams about being a powerful witch, / always vegan midnight snacks.
Always yawning, / occasionally smitten with beautiful, / with prose that reads like poetry, / always drawn to enigmatic, / always blanket on the floor, / always dreaming of dreams once had in other dreams, / always sandwiches (because try living on quinoa.)
All arms and limbs akimbo, / all thoughts of taco dinner parties, / all smitten and smiter, / all inscrutable mouth lines, / all begging for poetic inspiration, / all dreaming of foreign mouths, / all mouths and legs and dreams, / all awake, all awake.
With winter seeping in through window panes / now open for scent, / with All Tomorrow’s Parties, / and the thoughts of those gone by, / with barking dogs, / with late replies, / with wrinkled nose, / with closing eyes. / With conscious dreams, / disheveled sheets; / with hazy thought, with twenty years awake, / awake, / awake. // And twenty more the same.
Every eye open, / every window shut, / with too warm wind, / with too sweet cake, / with too late light, / with too empty sheets. / Every limb stretched, every stretch mark counted, / every leg long’d, / every mouth wet, / every day tomorrow.