i’m just a bare-boned king
with a hoarse rebel yell
who is terrified of becoming a ghost.
you said you hoped we’d meet again, but we already have.
sleep is a storm, and my dreams are a burden.
in every version of our story,
i’m your pedestal made of marble,
crumbling under your feet.
i’ve been cutting my fingers on the stars
trying to hold onto the galaxy for you,
but i’m no atlas,
and these bones are tired.
augustus also had a lover.
please come home.