twentyfour

“maybe we should get a downgrade.”
i said. like there
was any method to what we did.
we were ahead of our time, i like to think,
moral princes of a decadent age
till everything began to deteriorate.

(i imitated your handwriting
till i could barely get the words
out and off from my skin)

apart, you whispered,
“oh, sweetie, this is special.”
ha! like someday, it would end!
and in the plane i’ll watch the sky
like none of this matters
but only claire can know
how this weighs on my mind.

(as children, we are entombed
in graveyards of lights and chalks
and still your words stick to my skin)

so i whispered a thousand miles away
- in the hopes that i could keep
everything from being said -
“maybe we should get an upgrade.”
from business to first class
and finally get away.

a/n: for & about sarah.