I am holding this for you: cento

I said kiss me here and here and you did—

here we are in the weeds again.

And yes,

I swallow glass

but that comes later—

in the living room, in the broken yard

in the back of the car

as the lights go by. I’m screaming at you.

If you were walking away,

keep walking.

You were burned, you were about to burn,

you are still on fire

we’ve got nothing to lose

and our hearts turn red, like a barn on fire,

and I’m screaming at you

I like dead things, says the landscape.

I am the fire, says the fire.

Tell me we were dead

and I’ll love you even more.

—but that comes later

a pause, a road, the taste of gravel in the mouth.

leave the gun on the table on an ugly bedspread—

Everyone wants a battlefield.

This is where

the evening splits in half

with the ripped sky the red light streaming

from everywhere at once.

I am your arrival, there is no refusal,

we are here, you see, together,

we are already here.

I stayed as long as I could, you said

now look at the moon.

I am holding this for you.

If this isn’t a kingdom, I don’t know what is.