And when the sun dies black
clouded and blind
We could still live, I think
Maybe underground,
unless it’s also turned to mush and rock
the kind that kills you, still beautiful
and glowing green
We could still be alive, maybe
If we have each other
and our two closest friends
and maybe even their two closest friends
But when the waves beat down
beyond the shore
barrels of teeth reaching further and further
We could be in trouble then
but also maybe not
Maybe we could swim and swim
shore to retreating shore, shore to
broken shore
And find somewhere perfect and safe and great
to live out the rest of our
dark wet lives