The Light, So Wicked

I turned the lights off and you glowed,
glowed like the sun's reflection upon our most selfish moon.

And when we began to swallow the nights
so fast that they played back with blur;
we ran and sputtered like film strips.

I felt this story coming,
knew it to be streaming across my breast bones and into my heart.

I breathed in it's rapture,
feasted on essence,
winced at a fleeting future,

and died at the side of it's salt-ridden bed.