"in another universe, you and i are a sitcom," Jocelyn Suarez

and this time, when you curl up in bed next to me, it is because we want the warmth of familiar bodies. and when you say that the night is lonely, i stretch my arms only to fill the space of that absence.

and this time we don't kiss. because the show running is rated PG and we have better sense than to confuse tenderness with fucking.

and this time, we sleep in. this time, you don't leave with your bewildered heart exacting its feeling in the shape of a bullet hole on your sleeve. this time, you don't dig an ocean to cleave the mistake of ever wanting somebody near.

this time, we wake up awash with hazy sunshine, eyes gazing lazy at each other like a lautrec painting. for once, content.

and this time, we don't relent. we say good morning. we sigh, we laugh with the studio audience, and let the credits roll away.

/ In her life thus far, Jocelyn Suarez has only ever died twice. She still thinks that the experience is better than the aftermath of heartbreak.

2019.2Daryl Qilin YamPoetry