Poem By Zoe Nyght
We are two figures
silhouetted against a smoky, quivering backdrop.
Once we move the world tips
me into you
and we lie there, my head resting
heavily against your shoulder.
We are still,
letting the echo of blues sieve
through our aching bodies, gluing us
into place, into now.
The memory of instruments beating together
weaves a silky yellow light around the room,
engulfing our quiet lips;
I breathe I don’t move
I press my head deeper into your skin
until I feel our anvil weight
break the floorboards beneath us.
Silently, we come crashing
down into the empty space beneath my house,
leaving ghosts up there to
anchor our beings to the bedpost
where we shared a twilight evening
devoid of thought.