Do you want to have your experience now, or tomorrow?
Do you want to see the moon leave the sky tonight?
Do you want to crawl through the dirt, and come out on the other side?
The tunnel is flooding, but there are still plenty of breaths left.
I’ve picked you for this route. 
Each footstep on the path between the shaded trees.
Droning like a cricket in the blue hour. Stomping like a drum.
The irregular heartbeat of a city in the coil of your heart, burning like diesel.
Grains on the scale. The foghorn in the night, the storm, the beach, the nameless field with the box we buried.

Despite the sky, night is bright.

You look for something else there, digging shallow through dirt.
I already know it was moved months ago.
A question your parents couldn’t answer is written on the wall.
By sunrise there should be dust packed tight in the folds of your jeans.
We leave empty handed.
Reminds me that no time is ever wasted.
Each word we share brings us closer to the end.