Juice is too much of a good thing,
just eat the orange already.
You spend hours on the internet
looking for something to hurt you
so you can feel something other than busy.
In the heaven of the martyrs
everyone gets what they deserve.
For the rest of us, something more variable.
You snore, I obsess – each to their own worst traits and if
the debate leaves you unable to sleep for hours,
at least I get a head start. Often when dawn teeters
at the window you are coming to bed as I rise,
the purple sky is the bruise of wanting:
it fades quickly but I can still feel where
I’ve pressed so hard the vessels of night burst
beneath the surface. It may be we promised
all of our time in order to find any time at all,
net-fishing our chances to have some sort of life
together before the gains are weighed.
Let it be said, we deserve each other.