Daylight

We climbed the stairs like pilgrims to my temple and my tears were still inked in salt
They infiltrated my cavern with light held in the pockets of the bubbles in the sparkling wine they poured
Into glasses with the fizz of comfortable things like the way she sprawled on my mattress
Comfortable things like barriers down music up sufjan dancing in melodic circles around the kitchen light our warmth
Fogging the glass window
Looking out over the rooftops of our Paris
Behind which the moon was almost full
Almost
Like I was almost happy
Almost perfect
They way Paris is almost perfect
But they were here and they were laughing and oldies warmed the stone floor of my studio like hot coffee and we spoke and we laughed and we cried and we held on to each other like we are holding on to Paris
And the stars shone barely visible the way the Eiffel Tower hides beneath fog like it's bashful
And I saw the way her eyes flicker the same as mine when we speak of love and being fourteen
And they left three bottles of cheap wine on the floor and everything feels warmer
It's like how everything feels easier in daylight
They are my daylight
The way the moon brightens the lives of stars