we ripped bong hits until
our lungs were wide as sky
full of the thick white promise
of a heightened moment.
you said; "follow me into
the morning" and I mistook that
as an invitation to stay up all night.
we stayed up all night
stuffing duffel bags full of feathers
in case either of us needed to break loose.
I was always trying to break loose.
you flung your bag, seams split,
onto my door step and said a prayer
in some kind of gibberish or holy tongue.
I was never very good at reading 
between the lines.
and we climbed margins like beanstalks
toward an avalanche of ever-afters.
it all came down like sunday morning
right before checkout
when you couldn't find the key
and I reminded you that the front desk
really doesn't care about those kinds 
of things. they really don't care about much.
they just want you out on time.
they just want to make it look like
you were never there
but we wove woes and oms 
into the rug and drapes and 
left lines etched in the ceilings
where we laid on our backs
and marveled at our vulnerability. 
I kept telling you
it was a virtue
but you couldn't hear me over
my whirling stupidity.
it was stupid to break down
in that hot tub.
I'm not sure if they build them to last.
so I tested the integrity
of my porcelain promise
and we both spilled out
in the flood. 
I kept trying to save you
but all I could say was;
"happy birthday" 
as I pushed you under.
they'll always remember us here.
it's the one with the hope
in the sheets.