there is magic on the air

how could there not be 

all the ashes

although 

the pyre is getting pieced out.

one does not 

value what

one does not 

gatekeep from themselves 

i am miss america 

i am your mom

i am definitely not me

perhaps it all comes back

to find you

playing tracks for wedding guests

quiet and serene 

manifestation as an

art form

go on, get 

i used to want to find an answer

but i can’t recall the question anymore

if the best way to travel is light 

and the goal is to go farther 

than why does the levity make 

everything so much worse 

now i know the timeline

so i know the last time you 

were soft with me

you had already left me

when you saw fit to remember for a moment

that we were to see the end 

together

you had already left 

and i never had a chance 

because you never gave me one 

it’s not particularly funny anymore

but we both keep laughing along

i suppose to keep from crying 

your dramatic age

has brought us to this fire

and watching you try to save 

the parts of our palace 

that mattered the least 

is a lot like wandering through 

the depths of your exploitation 

and i’m left clinging to the laughter

because it’s the only thing 

you seem willing to share