i have been dreaming since we met. about your arms, your breath. a house with a red roof, white walls covered in ivy and crawling rosevines, blooming slow in the summer, hoarding sunhoney in the satin chalice of their petals— is flesh not just so? even now my chest crests and opens, ribs unfurl to make room for you.

at night we paddle out to sea in wooden boats to meet the moon. i loose my hair from where its pinned back with pearls and wildflowers. i skim the water, taste its salt. we are adrift and glowing, my skin touches yours, our breaths hover like perfume, and the tide pulls our bodies closer. the moon marries us in light, she the cherished witness. by dawn, our sails will be horizon fog, sea mist of the morning, haze of the waking sun. we will be afar, honeymooning.

then i wake up. the sparrows fly from the trees. the snow falls upon the castle. the clouds turn lilac, frothed with golden cream. the setting sun hides behind it. a bright place, out of reach. soft raspberry tinted light. the blackening river.

a deep, intrinsic, and dark oblivion.

i continue to dream of you, but now it is slow, and endless, and blue. i imagine death so much it feels like a memory. he is the feeling i miss: a bruise i lean into; a wound i want to bleed; salt i want to taste that has long dissolved from my fingers. i will never unscramble this love; its roots grew into the insides of my bones, it dug desolate moon craters in me. my pain is so human it is divine.