Life here supports happiness as we know it.
Light is abundant in cycles. Love, at times.
The nights are long enough to lie awake, remembering.
During the day we adapt and hold on.
There is an air about this place
you should breathe for yourself. So familiar,
we might have brought it with us—a smell
of leaves becoming earth as green buds open,
lingering throughout the seasons of ice and dust.
So far, none of us has had much luck forgetting
what needs to be forgotten. We have learned to work
in the yellow spring rain, work
as it pours into summer, and pinch back
the fevers in our blood until night falls.
Yet, from the beginning, when we first turned to each
other,
the memory of other arms has gripped our need.
This we live with. The names we give to our surroundings
make them seem less strange. Still, the constellations
look like creatures you would know.
Your sun, a pale heartbeat, is our pole star.
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