Because you are May. You were always May! When we met it was air, breath, life, fresh, bursting rain and dewy flesh. Your eyes—light. Your touch—a pull. Like screaming young stems reaching for the sun I reached for you, and still do. So we’ll grow till we can’t no more. We’ll live till we can’t no more. Breathing life into each other’s lungs till the last, we’ll survive on youth and dreams and luck.