Souvenir
Every night, we take the moon home.
Split it in half,
and tuck it away beneath our ribs
for safe keeping. I always wince,
because of bruises that never
heal but her smile kills that pain,
and when we get home
we get to dance under the same
light that led us to each other,
fashioning our love to the
ceiling above, so it’s shine
can light the only world that
matters to us anymore.
When we get home,
the rest goes dark,
and Earth’s rotation
adapts, forced to synchronize
with the steps of our feet
across the only real living room.
She says she’ll give it back
when I decide the pain is
no longer worth walks in the
shade of rain.
t e a s
ing me with
the zap of lightning’s charm.
But you see,
this burdened cage of love’s misery
is a metronome’s swing to the
beat of infinity.
And so I press play on the
heart of this, my favorite song
and once again, hold out my
hand..and wait for her to
take my pain away.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Copyright © James Kelley | Year Posted 2014
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