The sky held fortunes for the moment
but we always transcend God
when we speak in quiet tones
and the ground moves mountains
into earthquakes/I will always be here
when you fall asleep,
burning gardens with afterthoughts,
laughing at your generous kisses
but forever afraid of expiration dates,
and, I think, of birds.
I twist every compliment you place
on my torso into motivational cyanide,
vocal chords be damned, arthritis be cured.