Submissions by Joelle

this is us now
in that holy crush of midnight

in the hours where I find you
all hands and moonlit promises
because we are so perfectly doomed
to explore each other’s lives
coming back to that compass point
time and time again, your eyes
polished rubies in a burning room

and so, I look for you in music
where I met you, beautiful, beating
your fragile wings in the dark
because my dear, I am fragile too
as I rest in your feathers
allowing my bones to be wombed
in the steadfast weight of your arms
...

your voice is an insect
it flies in, frantic
wholly blind
finding the dim light
in my black throat

these days, it’s how
I love you most:

dark nights
dry spit
moth wings

That afternoon
you locked the door
giggling nervously
for a man of your age

I remember thinking
how innocent it was
to hear joy leave you
unmarred by day jobs
and the black hum of bills
shaking their totals

we couldn’t remember
what was to be said
to each other
choosing instead
to stack frantic piles
of love upon lips

there’s something beautiful
about that kind of urgency
bursting through a quiet room

and the truth is
I still picture it

I think of you ...