before the dusk shrugs off its
velvet, let me wrap us up.
you understand some moments must
be private, clutched so tight the
tendons tremble. others may lay bare
their naked faces to the sun—
not us, not quite yet. not with you
in me in you, hand on hand
on pillow. never mind the threat of
day that’s spilled along the sill.
never mind the neighbors, the glare
of their headlights. where
curtains fail, our blankets never will,
this silk cocoon our kingdom.
knight me. make me a body worthy
of flight. i’ll draw my wings
against the coup of dawn, a shield
for you and me. like this,
we’ll flit from room to room, moths
on the wrong side of the glass,
fleeing its eastern rise and languid
western fall. let’s soar past
hallways and laundry, avoid the
cold of open doors, let in no
ghosts but each other. you could stay
forever if we time this right.
Isaura Ren (she/they) is a poet, writer, and the Editor-in-Chief of perhappened mag. Her poems have appeared in After the Pause, Kissing Dynamite, Sea Foam Mag, and more. She would do anything for love, but she won’t do that. Find her on Twitter @isaurarenwrites.