We Spoon at Night
We spoon at night. We curl into our dark parts. We merge and separate. An oscillating moan escapes from our shapes. We are more satisfied when we let love loose. We are less satisfied when we do not.
We prepare meals together and share libations with friends. We skip over discomfort. We let anger simmer till it boils. We like it like that.
We inhale cannabis vapors and giggle. We roll over and under and over each other. We wrestle into sweaty exhaustion. We reveal ghosts and demons. We cry. We are the only ones we love. We watch a sunrise. We are afraid to swim in an ocean. We are happy on a shore. We are happy with a sun.
We hold hands. We sense a truth. We let go. We look into each other’s eyes for a short time. We exhale and worry about being alone. We turn to consoles. We dispatch quick messages to friends in bed. We upload a moment in time. We watch a story about impossible love. We hold hands.
We want to breathe more. We search for oxygen. We roll down windows. We take a journey. We see a mountain in the distance.