We Slay

May I melt into you at sunset, when our day is done, and the deep — delicious, as a buffet — lies before us?

Will you walk with me into that starred-space, wish upon the seconds with me, and show me what courage in the dark can accomplish?

Battle with me — and sometimes, for me — fellow-dreamer, in those in-between hours, then soothe my mind when I wake to the day

So again I may slay 

Into Saturday Night

I awakened him with a soft exhale
One that was on purpose

Long

The timing of which had nothing to do with anything
Except fate and skin and the sixth-sense that is subconsciousness

And though this was his Sunday
That blessed day of rest
Seemed unnecessary, he said

As we sank back
Into Saturday night

Feverish