I kissed a winter’s darkness of night. Behind the trees. Darkness gathers outside and I feel your heart against my skin. Sentences are a desert. It is every single street view filled with our arms and legs. I had fallen: a spotted sleep, a deep melancholy through the sorrow of the landscape. I love to wake up and see you wake up. In the images, I saw enemies and birds and blank papers and rain.

The pain sailing on streams of gold in dawn’s canopy of light.