for when humanity is not enough

I am lashed to a gypsy boy

by one colossal sky.

when this universe becomes a cage

I remember that his eyes are

black holes, magnetic dripping wounds,

and through them

we could probably tunnel our way ascendant.

I will miss you, gypsy brother

on the sometime day when

your pain is no longer a false alarm.

if nothing else,

remember the morning

when the sun filled our eyelids

and, for a moment,

opened those sleek black

holes to light.

If nothing else,

remember the morning.