home is where it all lies

we jumped through the waves
a lighthouse as a beacon
constructing a paper bed
littered with feathered white doves
as sheets –
we believed we could fly
but only if we pared ourselves down
into stainless steel girders to bridge
the gaps between soul and world –
you suggested pink sunset skies and I
chose the round black back
of the moon and we hung
these two framed and hand-coloured prints
opposite the bed
where each night we slipped into
the other, forgetting our names
if only for a few hours
until the yellow yolk of day broke
into our tangled dreams and we had to rush
back into the paper cut reality
marking our fingers
as we locked the door behind us