tell me about the moment where we unhinge the shutters and let the light back in. how it was early and all we wanted was the emptiness of sleep to cradle us until our skin burned. it's not like a bedrock, something sturdy to break against, it's more like a windmill without the wind. how we took off our shoes so we could see the sky
and the nights were ink
and every time you smiled there was another name to spill from your lips. look at the quiet, it means we've lost our map, it means we have no recollection. tell me how all of this, and love too, will pin us
these, our bodies, dampened by light.
- n. nigro (2013)