do you suffer from depression

i want to ask but meanwhile

electronic trance pours a silky tea into our ears

steeped in the red that pervades this room

here we are in San Francisco on a bright night

two people alone with our insomnia

blooming like violent wildflowers and loose lightning

our mouths draw the shapes of dim perceptions washed from a broken flow of melatonin

you spread over the sheets, skinny as daylight in winter,

stare at me upside-down.

listen carefully

to me speak of depth perception

as you suck nitrous oxide into your lungs like grenade smoke.

later we lie next to each other, pointlessly,

coaxing sleep into the room with crumbs of prayer

perhaps i kneel at the threshold of consciousness

building churches out of slender touch, parsimonious and fragile.

for hours, you traced circles on my skin