all night, we laid in that pink room.
drowning in sweat and the late summer heat
we tangled up, talking about the universe
and how we'd broken the shower and ruined dinner.
how a battlefield erupted on your back, and me
how this was all going to go downhill in the morning
how certain we were, this had to go wrong.
all night, we spent the last day of summer
half dressed and foolish as we touched
in more than appropriate ways, twisted
together till all the atoms in our bodies seemed to
collide, then mesh, reaching out towards one another.
sealing in themselves the promise of a weaker tomorrow
but a brighter future past that, and beyond, something good
because we were half-asleep and sure of ourselves.
all night, we talked, half dead but more alive than anyone
rude and soft, better than anyone could hope to be.
more pure and true than anyone could hope to be.
now all i want to do is spend all night with you every night
sleep in in the morning and have nothing to do all day
but you, and there would be peace
i'm sure of it