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Morning and Night
In the morning,
when she makes the bed
so we line up,
when we lie
in perfect symmetry,
the hours pass with the fan
a quiet circle overhead,
spinning us to sleep.
During the night, we are apart.
You crumple--
exiled to the foot of the bed
in a furious tangle,
cocooned into yourself.
I lay taut, heavy with loss,
and wait
for the gray flush of morning
and you to spread over me
so we can fall into place together.
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♥
You're young until you're not, you love until you don't, you try until you can't, you laugh until you cry, you cry until you laugh, and everyone must breathe until their dying breath. No, this is how it works. You appear inside yourself. You take the things you like, and try to love the things you took, and then you take that love you made and stick it someone else's heart, pumping someone else's blood. --Regina Spektor
May 2010
About
This is the journal of Kat the Dragonslayer -- who can also be found here, at livejournal.
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