Excavation

There is a diary

on the edge of our nightstand

tiny

it can be held

tightly

opened with one hand

the writing 

scribbled mostly

scrawled in a 

fiery 

frenzy 

emotional bursts 

confusion

declarations of immortality

the drawing 

of incorrect conclusion

I hope that in time

we can be lazarus

beautiful 

share futures

as monsters of frankenstein

you'd still see our sutures

on knees

I crawl around

for evidence

for proof

digging in the ground

my shovel hits our roots

hear sirens of police

they're still too far to see

piling back on dirt

hastily

trap a part of me

as i run away

i register a thought 

of time and of its worth

of what cannot be bought

reach right through the filament

exchange innards 

for treatise 

your eyes 

the beauty

long-dead galaxies

race light years to

plant their brilliant seeds