it's 11:11 somewhere

 

our mutual wish is that this will never end this touching this loving this kissing this sweet
language we share so babied so lullabied so deeply magical I wake up to find you gone
send you a text with a broken heart and one word (abandoned) you reply with a photograph
of tofu and vegetables curried in a wok and one word (cooking) and this is enough to carry us
through the catacombs of paris the postcard kiosks of london the littered beaches of mexico
because I was five and my grandmother was tickling my back reading fairy tales to me
and a seed was planted for one true king and no pretender and now in the year of the galloping
fire horse I have found him and so much more in you my goddamn beautiful aries stallion
so yes we will ride this bitch on out all the way to no grave our corpses burned to ash
scattered wherever doesn't matter because beyond the oven it's us liberated immeasurably
above it all ecstatic