and be lost in different things.
hands to piano keys, cradling hardcover spines,
empty your broken heart on the kitchen table to a
soundtrack of crochet needles and knowing sighs
unpack your overdue taxes next to me
this soft serenade to parallel play
please, come and cherish my
quiet company. let me bask in your
meandering thoughts.
yes, please, bring your fatigue. your fading
lantern of focus. your two remaining spoons.
i’m coming face to face with how few of these
nights we really get, so please, when the day takes
you out at the knees, let me carry you to my door
i want to be in a room with you
and you
and you.
across this city we burn our
candles at each end, holding the weight
that once spread among many hands.
please
help me find the atlantis of the third space
the lost language of the village.
CarnivalDark 