In a parallel universe, August is the only month
and I am the end of the world, watching the last sun
curtsy
In this universe, I dress Love in my skin
and you and I, city-blind
feast
on golden-hour cloudbursts
sousing sunlight into gray seams
as the horizon bleeds technicolor
and I break upon prophesy
remembering—rainbows fade
before the end
In a proto-universe, I am God’s
thought bubble—empty
midnight before light
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