Take the time we were all in bed after a day At the lake, where the smell of fresh sheets Mingled with the dead fish, weed, and beer Rising from our skin as we drifted to sleep In a nest, and I dreamt we were wanted, Running through the woods for dear life (Because we are together) breathless, And when we rest, I stay up the night Fighting to keep my eyes open as morning Comes, not for fear of being caught, But that sleep would take the way I feel, Our futures folded in on the past, Leaving a tangle of echoes in the present. We are a funeral pyre and a bonfire, The whole is not the sum of its parts, The parts contain the whole, And the whole contains the parts— There is just this mountain of us, A flare of light, and this empty awareness— Ghost platitudes of the aboriginal star. I still hear but can't remember who it was Who laughed through their teeth as they Bit my ear and tickled me awake For farting and hogging all the room. Seeing too much is seeing too little— The sun in your eye is unfathomed time With no regard for who and what remains, An unending arrow of irrevocable loss.