something for the reel

there along the spruced line:
but another persistent dusk

we fell into a line while a silence,
threaded into the deceasing fog,
kept us wondering what kind of life
materializes out of such moments

a cute boy in front of me told me every night he would dream a replay of his entire life up to that moment. every night his dream was one day longer and he wondered if, in the end, he would run out of dream time or if he would kill himself. ‘really nothing is ever new’ , ‘especially when you’re never willing to live the same day over and over again every single night’, ‘i’ve never taken a photo in my entire life’.

august finds himself
beside me, then.
days later.
at a chrome bar
once, at a marble bar once.
later it was all
and always
ancient
pine and resined stain,
light whiskey and a
place of our
own.

with him he carries
the late setting sun and
a breeze sighing
the smell of leaves from
whenever. it is now,
he said. so we walked
along spotted beaches.
is there anything more
special than a gentle one
to tussle your hair.
somewhere above
gulls laugh at him,
until he whispers:
it’ll always
be you.

i’ll believe you when
time bothers itself
to stop, while i am
smiling still. when we
no longer find ancient
walls and perch all
night. only in august,
he said, when i can
brush sand from your
brows

but that’s all i
ever wanted, until
time lets me forget
to track a thing
anymore,

then everything
crashed, like waves
summing to greater
than the addition of
amplitudes, or light
mixing to something
outside the visible spectrum,
or particles in boxes
existing and not
simultaneously.

then you pulled
away

then my eyes pulled up,
and i saw the same stars
from when the earth was last here

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