And what we choose to close
to the night, to the eyes
in the grass across from us
is that wordless notion of
my hand in space
waiting empty
and yours pulling apart the
universe, stone by stone, shoulders
still
does it bother you, this breathing
because I will hold it
What lightning comes
and paints cracks against our
sagging fence and no one
crawls into the cold space
between our arms
the sheets are lost in the clap
one, two, of thunder
who is pounding we say
but it is a bird that begins
below my ribs, touching
spark to flame, burning
down the very stars.

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