Grey White Grey

Tonight, you can wear my skin as your skin

It's tough and worn and impermeable and impossible

with the date stamped even though the queue is long

because it seems all a bit Dali

But on nights like this

when the soft of clouds is scratchy like a sweater on sale

it will fit like a pigeon in a clouded window

or a spiked sill

And the sun will stay set for a while this time

Because he's tired and I'm tired and sleep would come easy

if the curtains weren't drawn and the timing wasn't wrong

And I knew the words that fit easily in your lips and mouth and tongue

And if our beating hearts were proximal like we're taught to understand

and the dirt we breathe could be listed as

holistic and sadistic and scientific

I would tell you the truth

But the worms have lied

and the birds aren't early

so no one gets anything except the feeling of empty

and a shaking hand holding a sallow lantern

But when my hair is tied back with twine

and the Autumn feels sweet and safe again

Things will return to almost as they were

before the fall