the fresh air just gets in the way of what's true - oh your|
laughter is what my lungs long to carry even if they can only
hold a little bit of its joy before they burst into silver
shards glowing in the moonlight as they float slowly to the earth.
and you laugh, while we step softly outside onto the
hard earth and i am tired and i am weak and it hurts to breathe,
but i still make my chest rise and fall against the weight of
the violet sky so that i might take in some of your sweetness.
when the end times come there will be liquor in my blood and
my teeth and tongue will be stained dark with wine and rum
while i wait with eyes open wide for the last light to die
and i will move the muscles in my mouth carefully as i can in
my drunken state to whisper the joke saved for that moment -
your laughter will be as bright as the stars before they faded.
Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien