My joy is quick to abandon.
So today I am clutching onto the soft skin of your chest melting into mine as an act of tethering myself to the here and now. Stay with me and I can stay, too, baby blue, my solid anchor to this world of real. As long as I can grasp you, feel your warm breath burning alive into the vacant hollow of my shoulder, the sharp dig of your elbow into my side when you shift unaware in your sleep, I can stay, too. I can stay— only because of these afternoons and evenings becoming one, becoming whole, our edges painted by moonlight when it arrives. You silence my sadness. It hardly matters if joy slips through my fingers a little further every day— I have you, and with you I can slip beyond.