They are so few and so fleeting
Wispy ghosts of a feeling
Made into powerful poltergeist
Emboldened into something nice

Rarely do they come to breathe
From the suffocating coffin sea
Of all the hopes making pleas
Crying out to care for me

Mistimings grand and misdoings few
Such a simple want to care for you

Soft lips
Speak truths so small
In the moment I slip
You drift away
Away from it all

Hyperdense and ‘empty’ we are to be
yet since the beginning, you’ve pulled on me.
Little waves of gravity whispering,
sweet signals on a horizon as comforting

Your silhouette cast only by the death of stars
So rarely I see you through these cosmic wars
Trillions between us counting down to the last
The bright music of time plays as the novae all blast.

I’ll devour a galaxy, a cluster, a quark
Just to be near you in what’s left of the dark
Tear one another apart in a giant display
When we touch and give all of our light away

The blame does not rest on me.
For the blame does not rest.
It lies no place on this ground.
So how am I to shift it?

I am truthful in my indifference.
Yet disdainful of the truth.
I suffer in the cold of what could be,
then blanket myself with the blame.

There is a rot at my center and I refuse to name it.
There is a blossom in my core and I yearn to save it.

Brush by the cityscape in the small hours.
Where passers by cannot see me observe it.
My lights are its decoration; the silence ours.

The visions past the water age differently.
It was there when I was born.
It will persist when I pass on silently.

Pleasantries are exchanged twixt those among it.
Such pleasantries are just that, for something so seemingly immortal.
It too shall pass on as I will one day.

Beauty is just beheld in what it has seen of me in such constancy.

I have had good love
I want you to know as well
Good, with sabotage