Calypso (to 'nýja lagiδ')

they had been laying on the floor of her living room for hours.
suspended, inclosed by the screaming white walls and carpet.
everything was still, unadorned- except for the massively oversized mirror
that hung above her couch, framed by roughly cut cardboard.
the world had stopped for them, nothing moved.
there was only music
they spoke at times, and then went unimaginable expanses without words
he traced lines, shapes, words, sentences, secrets
with his fingers into her arms and legs
when he asked how long they had laid there
her heavily lidded eyes pulled open
draconic  and lovely and green
she answered 'always'

later like a shock.
the sun breaks. pouring in through the gossmer drapes that hang
over the rarelly openned double french doors.
the illusion of their forever trembles
in the adamant light of celestial physics.
'it's almost tomorrow' he says
'no, no' her soft pleas, 'make it stop.'
he pulls his hand through her thick hair,
newly illuminated it is a cascade of garnet and copper.
'i dont know how'
'if you just put this song on repeat.
and we dont ever go to sleep
it will stop.'
he could not help his smile, at the sleepy laze of her voice
'will it?'
'yes, just stay here with me,
in this room,
in this song,'
she says softly,
'if we dont go to sleep, it will be today forever.'