Flooding in black and white

This place is flooding and we need to leave

Fall and melt into this asphalt
and pull me down with you.
Here even street lights
and parking lots
have beauty.

Dive into this stagnant pond
and come up stinking of honeysuckle
and offer me champagne
if I’ll dive in too.

Its been eighteen dawns since
the light first hit your face
and there’s not a moment to toss away
before it rivals the most forbidding sea.
Box to box to box to box
this path that leads back to itself
all the while smelling of pine trees
and bathed in the reflection of spot lights.
There’s no broken fans I can’t fix
and no night we can’t be eaten alive by.

When my time is up just nod
and I’ll throw my shoes into the water
and you’ll dye your hair
and our smiling teeth will be white for days.


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