We were building hollow blocks, figuring out how to
make them sit neatly next to each other. We were flip
and we were flop and we ended up with our noses pressed
close enough for a stranger to wonder if we were about to
hold hands. So we did. We held hands in the dark until your
eyes pulled shut. There were stars.
I have always been a universe unto myself. I have always been
in servitude. What way is the best way? Whose ethical turn is this?
The grey area is where you and I become steam.
We’re sinking through stone now. We’re collaborating.
There’s mold. We laugh. By now, you and I have seen enough to know
what would pull us apart and what wouldn’t. What we could talk about
in the dark, sink each other’s noses into sleeves, not feel the need to hide
because it’s actually okay to feel. To feel very deeply. To always think about
the ocean. A shadow in the dark, tendrils wet.
STABILISE 
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