“it’s midnight and my bony fingers twist in yours as you spin me around on the hardwood floor - like nobody does anymore. you look at me as if my ripped up jeans are a ball gown and smile when i start jumping up and down - you bring out the child in me. i got tipsy, dizzy and spilled my whiskey but you pull me in close and i push up on my toes - you are the universe dressed as a man. i said “i need to remember this moment” but little did i know that this december would be the birth of a poet - our story will never die. you squeeze my hand and i have a fist full of galaxies and those before you who hurt me and remain in my heart become casualties. i’ve always been told to never dance on a grave but loving you has made me brave although some would say it has made me insane. my rib cage used to be a battlefield but you won the war and you told me that you’d never leave - you pinky swore. there is a burial ground inside my chest so please ignore this bulletproof vest - i just don’t want you to be next.”