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