Unite, We Alight

The sunlight is see-through, incandescent, unidentified.

The thrumming of the discord rings wrong, yet seethes off bouts of righteousness,

and the blood inside my veins solidifies into wood,

telling me I love you.


Darkness at the strike of noon,

the match setting the baby’s bedroom on fire,

warm hues enveloping the cradle, smothering it with an unknown silver.


David Bowie plays on a record outside of the room,

remembering he’s dead,

I come to you.


Our bodies bend back and forth,

vibrating in discord to try and prove we fit together,

even though the edges upon us seize unnaturally,

as rashes caused by friction create a delicious cocktail,

I never thought I’d drink.


Yes, we’re lovers.

And that is a fact.


Sex means next to nothing,

when magnets melt the surface of the moon,

as we hike mountains from children’s story books,

learning Spanish backwards,

even though we wrote it all down first.


Water everywhere,

the blues returning as they always do,

our spherical prison forcing us to believe the new dictator,

he won’t send us to camps, he won’t harm us in any way.


We pulsate,

refusing to sit in one place,

disregarding the unmoving memories of the past.


We dance in dismay.


Yet still, we dance,

oh, do we ever dance.


And we’re more than friends.

We’re lovers.

Quivering in the night.

Alexander Rigby