the morning after
is the time for whole truths,
over a cup of coffee if i ever drank coffee.
here i’d ponder the cut on the inside of my lip;
is it good that your mark isn't somewhere
less conspicuous and more permanent?
last night, the blinds were drawn
and the lights were off, and like in film;
memories may be first written in light
but they are developed in darkness.
it was too warm for covers
but too cold to be apart
so we held each other more ways than one;
tracing each others scars
as if we were both king midas
filling in the cracks
of broken pottery.
this is paradise promised;
no walls, no masks, no facades,
and yet everything is actually okay.
to be understood, is to be known,
to be known is to be loved,
to be loved is to to safe,
and to be safe is to unapologetically just be.
it was said that adam and eve
had known each other so fully
that they became one being.
and in their nakedness,
they saw the cosmos in each other's eyes.
but must each reminder of life
also bring thoughts of end?
even eden couldn't last forever.
with a bloody smile,
i take the last sip of this imaginary coffee;
a line repeats in my head,
safety is sexy, safety is sexy