Matryoshka
by Ryan Harris

1.
Night bled into Day –
we resurrected the dark
Nyx contemptuously;
we exhaled the pale
Helios.

2.
Between us were hours of
contemplation, days
writhing from an excess
of Saturnalia, weeks of
expelling structures and
pretenses.

3.
Every morning, we woke
to the stale scent of
old coffee and fruit;
every night, we slept
to the litany of endearments
and lullaby of breaths; we
expired.

4.
And I kept time with your
body; I counted seconds
by breaths, minutes by
touch; I forecasted
lifetimes as weather systems,
predicting courses with
your promises, your
eloquence.