Vespers in common time as bunker busters
drop on the soul like a nightcap on fire.
Portland summers can be so heavy so
we link our hands and arms together to hold
up this night for even just a minute longer.

It’s love in the time of doom-scrolling
but fuck it all; lets throw our phones
into the flames and kill what’s left of
our time by taking shelter in bed
under sheets and making it burn brighter
and hotter than any missile ever could.

There’s a sky outside like Apocalypse Now
as I trace your skin from head to toe.
I taste the arc of a generation on you and I’m
so lost in time I don’t ever want to be found.
Buildings are burning outside.
Glass is falling on skin and asphalt,
and the bullets are singing.
Ignore it; just kiss me.