We were looking far ahead and
spelling out the plans as if
every breath and every golden day
between us and the future
was sealed
with the promise of a quiet invincibility
so much so that when we forgot our tomorrows
and turned our eyes towards night skies, smoke machines
and laser beams that we
neglected to tend to the possibility
that our tomorrows were sealed
and labelled
tallied like objects in a kindergarten classroom and
with the veil of youth and routine over our
wandering eyes we were too engrossed with our plans to even
pay mind to the universe that had its own.
and now we stay up till 7 am
music in our ears and memories
in our head
grasping for a string of hope that
could salvage the idea that all
our plans and prayers weren’t
so paper thin.
