By:  Elizabeth Bruno


If today were forever, I would call you God.

But since today is just today,

And you are just you, I will just call you mine.  


I will close my lips

And push them into yours,

Feeling our heavens collide.


We walk through night together,

Climbing our favorite trees

Like angels who can’t touch the ground.


Somewhere up in the stratosphere

We shake off our gravity

And let our wings come down.


You show me your throat,

That sore war room where

Angry generals stomp around.


I show you my lungs,

The walk-in closet where

All my costumes are found.


It’s metaphysics, really,

You and I stripping things down

And feeling the universe expand.


It’s skinny-dipping,

This undressing inside someone’s mind

And swimming around.

Elizabeth Bruno is a doctoral candidate in English at the University of Oregon and a graduate of Yale Divinity School. Her work has appeared in The Atlantic, ISLE, Roast Magazine, Montana Magazine, and is forthcoming in The Cape Rock.