Kingship Poem by Sarah Elizabeth Clark

We fall to the top of the world
every night
when we live as kings.

Stalking the lines
for two or three new friends
to start us up again.

Reminding us
that the world
has never been small.

But we can embrace it all
in-between
midnight and morning.

Before the sun sobers
and we become
us once more.

Our names mean
something different then
I'm sure.

They have regrets, mistakes
but the night makes
the best of us more alive.

How could anyone pretend
that the best nights
don't come after 2am?