stir the embers.

the night unfolds its mystery
through the secret shadows
of our incandescent space.
we are both wearing wings
with borrowed feathers,
clutching the memory of clouds.

tonight, we'll look down
at the ruins of our past
and attempt to rebuild cities
as the wind holds our hand heavenward,
triggering the memory of flight.

on the day we died,
i found pieces of gravity
seeping from the walls,
dissecting the slant of time.
thoughts that once flew
out of the windows
lay grounded in exile,
absorbing the memory of loss.

but tonight,
not even the sting of uncertainty
gets under my skin
because your barefeet never touched the ground
when you walked through my door
and a kiss covered me in lucid skin,
igniting the memory of ecstasy.