(Her) Midnight tastes like voltage and champagne.

(He) And you feel like a door I was born to open.

I’ve been to places that don’t fit in stories people tell at tables,

Down where language breaks its teeth on what the heart can’t hold.

I learned there’s an invisible wall—most won’t cross it, even able,

So I crossed it like a ritual, alone, the way I’m built to go.

Lantern in my ribcage, Hermit in the smoke and laughter,

I take the unspoken weather from the rooms we call “just fine.”

I don’t do it to be noble—

I do it because the darkness always finds my nervous system first in line.

Low latent inhibition—thin gates, thin veil,

I catch the hidden pattern like a comet in my hands.

And tonight the city’s counting—

But I’m counting the ways you make the underworld feel like land.

(Both) At midnight, I descend—then I return—

With your name like a match I don’t let burn out.

You’re my myth in a dress of neon and nerve,

My truth with her hands on my mouth.

(He) I would bleed all my old ghosts clean for you,

Turn poison into something I can breathe for you.

(Her) Come closer—let the dark become a dance—

New Year’s Eve, take my chance.

(Both) I’m your psychopomp lover—guide me through.

I watched you hold the whole room steady while they smiled and lied,

Like you were swallowing storms so nobody else would taste the rain.

You carry Chiron’s silver wound where you keep your light alive,

And you still choose tenderness—like that isn’t its own kind of brave.

They call it “too intense,” they call it “mood,” they call it “broken,”

But I know labor when I see it in a man’s exhausted eyes.

So let them keep their small talk—

I’m here for the sacred thing you do when you go quiet to survive.

Persephone in glitter, you’re the one who goes below,

Not to vanish—

To come back with a better kind of gold.

And if the world can’t name it,

I will—softly—right against your throat.

(Both) At midnight, I descend—then I return—

With your name like a match I don’t let burn out.

You’re my myth in a dress of neon and nerve,

My truth with her hands on my mouth.

(He) I would break my old armor down for you,

Turn every shadow into rhythm now for you.

(Her) Come closer—let the dark become a dance—

New Year’s Eve, take my chance.

(Both) I’m your psychopomp lover—guide me through.

(He) There’s a lower realm—

Some artists only sense it from the edge of a chord.

I live there when the crowd goes home,

When the ceiling fan sounds like distant war.

And there’s a moment in every descent

Where the dark says, Stay. You belong.

But you—

You put your hand on my face and remind me I’m not wrong.

(Her) Don’t make a home in the underworld without me.

Don’t turn your gift into exile.

If you carry the weight at the bottom—

Let me be the kiss that turns it into trial by fire, then into style.

Tonight we rewrite the old vow—

Not “die for you,” not “ruin for you,”

But live—fully—loudly—true.

(Both) At midnight, I descend—then I return—

With your name like a crown I don’t set down.

You’re my myth, my medicine, my modern world,

My confession in the sound.

(He) I will burn through the fear for you,

Turn every haunted hallway into clear for you.

(Her) Come closer—let the dark become a dance—

New Year’s Eve, take my chance.

(Both) I’m your psychopomp lover—guide me through.

(Her) Count it down—

(He) I’m here.

(Both) Ten… nine… your mouth, your breath, your light—

One… and we’re new—

Not because the clock forgave us…

Because we chose each other at the edge of midnight,

And came back.