you were not meant to be a dying star,
not when you could burn as brightly as the sun

I want to write
to set the literary sky alight
with words, bright birds
that take me with them in their flight
transcending earth to give me sights
and views I never saw before
but I can only watch them soar,
as with other earthbound things
I look up and wish for wings

We are shipwrecked on the rocks of desire.

This heart needs you.