Pre-Apocalyptic

to feel him cry
not to see it
but to feel it
in his body against mine
in the shaking
in the rocking
in those barely-substantial
tears
that stain my skin with salt-beds
is maybe all that matters

before the apocalypse
when this, too, shall end
our lives are on the line
and every second
that I wish I could take for granted
has become precious

I could kiss him forever
but I can only love him now
so you take what you can get
and you use what time you have
and you love before the end
because perfection
can not and will not last
because it never does

so this night
is enough
and these tears
are plenty
if they are all that
I can have

Pre-Apocalyptic
7.18.03