the sign of our impending decline
is all conjuring conjecture and magic
- tricks, you might say, an illusion

but there's nothing ephemeral here:
the mental composition of goodbyes,
congenial farewells without tears

we could sleep in separate beds
without being tied together,
bound up in proximity

the real magician's play here
is that we still pretend to worry,
weigh and measure and provoke

failing that, this house of cards
comes drifting down, soft-sweet
sad too, the sadness of warning

take caution, take care, look!
see here's a rabbit in my hat,
another 'i love you' in the dark

waiting for a connection that never comes hard
you remember that sleep is just like forgetting
and not even the tenderest hearts keep hurting
once they stop their wide awake circles

morning won't dawn when it comes today
even light has regrets placid and useless
and morning always always comes
muted muting snow grey to abide

here, in this place, in this light,
in this laden love

We the transforming people stay up
   too late on this and that;
   we'll take just one,
   we have a plan
   this is how it works

But then we change our minds
   like we knew we would,
   take the just one more and
   go go go out of the late nights
    and out into the glaring sun

And then again and again,
   wake up and ache,
   our muscles reminding us
   we have to let them
   breathe slow sometimes

Thinned out, when we eat
   we find that we've forgotten how
   and we've forgotten how to feel
   the taste of genius without sweet
    running down our throats and we've
      forgotten how to stay
stagnant, s t i l l.

I will: sink my teeth into your
skin, I will eat you up, I will
shiver and shudder and find
my tongue on your neck,
licking.

Your words have all dried up
and your voice seems off -
dry and cracked,    or
swollen and choked where
your heart imploded
in