In the morning I will curse this world
and all things in it; the rising sun,
the running greed, and the nameless
voice that has convinced us that this
is how all things should be, but for now
I will curl into the open arms of my
blushing lover and daydream of us
taking care of the fields while
the sunlight gives us soft kisses
and sings us blessings of summer rain,
and I will tell him that this is all
that really matters, our mutual
sleep sacrifice, the others smile,
some computerized creation we call
art on the screen in the background,
and a spark between our foreheads
pressed together as if to say,
if we must fall, we will do so together.