I am living in his backwards screenplay and he is rewinding.
We marry on set. He tells the same story to everyone:
How we took the black hole out, slogged away the human left.
How we ate toxically and traveled for the clouds.
Where our stories made us less than we were.
I left the earth for you, I say.
I grew these feathers for you.
The mechanics of his voice
His eyes become the fierce jungles from which I run.
From the outside, we see everything and touch nothing.
His eyes, so dark at night.
The sky is always this dark.