we are the last

Exploring a relationship as the world ends-

i love you.
i know.
i love you too.
this.
all of this.
around us.
i love it.

she looked at me—
eyes like dusk
and ash—
and said,
“you know we’re all going to die.”

i laughed,
not because it was funny,
but because it was true.
"the moment we’re born, we are."
i said,
like it would help.
like words ever helped.

silence.
not the soft kind.
not peace.
the heavy kind.
the kind that settles in your bones
and makes a home.

i knew what she meant.
this isn’t just dying.
this is
the end.

humanity—
ghost in the mirror.
ash in the lungs.
a memory god forgot to keep.

is there anybody left
but us?

then—
a sound.

bare feet
on hollow wood,
slap-slap-slap,
a heartbeat
that wasn’t ours.

children—
somehow—
running,
laughing,
like joy hadn’t gone extinct.

filling the halls,
filling the rooms,
crashing through the doorways
with reckless, final grace.

they didn’t know.
maybe that’s what joy is.
not knowing.
or maybe
they did.

and laughed anyway.

the last human joy
on earth.
before
the dark
comes
home.