Hope in a bubble.
There could be a sequel…
an elaborate improvement on the now.
But we’re hiding within that feeling
of twisting limbs ’round each other
while sipping soothing beverages,
of running fingers through braided hair,
pretending tomorrow will never come.
There could be candid conversations
starring in A Tense Evening.
Yet the setting sun lulls us
into the cocoon of leaving things unsaid.
There could be honesty,
all the gore of what keeps things good.
But the long day says goodbye right after let’s wait,
’til we gather strength to face truth.
… and we don’t mind if that’s never.
After all, it’s not too late to save Us
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