You told me you loved me that I’d never die alone, hand over your heart, let’s go home
Everyone noticed everyone has seen the signs, I’ve always been known to cross lines
the sky is low
gather up its harm and gods
with grateful arms
After I gave you that lamp, we ate at that terrible Chinese. It’s an angled poise because you press your face too close to the page when you read and there’s never enough light. And you want no glasses because you say your nose is too small and with glasses, you’d look like a mole, which you don’t—wouldn’t. It’d suit you, you’d look just as fairly beautiful as you are. It’s yellow because you said no one wants a yellow lamp, so if I got it for you in yellow, then maybe no would steal it from your desk. I do give these things quite a lot of consideration, you see. The devil’s in the detail.
If you hold off until that reflex kicks in, you have more time, right? More time to fight your way to the surface? More time to be rescued?