Don't worry. The streetlights are still phosphorescent lagoons, and they are all for us. All the lights in the world are ours, all made of whispers and promises that can never be revoked, because nothing but cold can make them untrue. We are still here, and you are still holding my hand.
The first night, we were all hands. Before I felt you inside me, we spent hours on your floor with our fingers wrapped together. Those seashell fingernails tonight, those roses of knuckles, those calluses and creases, I knew them all. Innocence absolves us of everything. If people are ever really born again, those people were us, on that night, born into candlelight.
You don't have to worry that my love will stop. Hearts are resilient and they sometimes miss beats, but they don't give up.
You made promises to me in secret, in thoughts that you spoke with your eyes, in long silences in bedrooms, on beaches, that echoed everywhere. A year ago we owned the world. We were in the ocean and the sky. And now the earth shakes, but it only proves what was always true. We are the ocean and the sky, we are pools of light, we are are beyond dirtying or extinguishing. There's no way back, and I don't want one, because now I remember.
We closed on each other not out of need, or hunger, but because fate had found us. You've been fooled; I've been cruel. It means nothing. The tide comes in and the wind blows. And I remember now that you are my love. If the universe implodes, there will still be gasps and mists, and that will still be true.
In a thousand years, we will walk through ruins. There are things you might say to remind me of the shock. But we can take whatever time dishes out. Don't worry. | 
