Megan Eaves

you invented a fantasy
invited me in
a world of mysteries
where we’d swirl, just us, away
from the world, just us
two interlopers lost and found –
in the lyrics of a bedsit poet.
were these your lies
my delusions
they’d say maybe they’re right
but on an evening of soft
light
where the melody dances candles
on tables
and the smell of the danube seems
thick
i would believe it all over
again
in every life
if i could live just once
with you.