Once we are set free
from this quarantine,
I will search beneath your bed to ensure there are no more monsters—
monsters bearing the odor of heartbreak; monsters bearing smiles whose teeth are chipped tombstones; monsters stealing wonder and leaving only wounds.
Once we are set free
from this quarantine,
bring me a necklace of moons, and I’ll play you a song on my jukebox heart.
Meet me at the intersection of Grace and Good Fortune.
RichRant 