When you are down to your last
and we are out back
with nothing but bricks and stars
and jobs we could not love
if we were the ones responsible
for creating them,
I am in love
with the fifteen minutes to be had
because I feel close
to discovering the god particle
every time you pass me
your cherry chap stick tipped happiness
and I know I will not owe you
a single cent
in the mean time
and you are
so kind as to dream
with me, and feel
the Tropic of Cancer's sands
between your toes
in every moonlit contrail
over our midnight bleary eyes.
