when does the night become us?
at what moment is the soul raised to the sky?
death, say some
and some ask why

the stars are dead,
and because we watch them miles and miles from where they rest
we are still fascinated by
these flames that hang in shapes and forms that make up our night sky

but what if our night sky is really not made up of bones?
if the stars don’t dwell on our dead bodies or take pride in a corpse,
I would in fact believe that
the sky does make up your soul

I do believe your heart's the moon
and constellations map out your veins
so when they ask if our souls look down from above,
I'll say I'll ask when I see you again

I'm
obsessed
with
the thought
of
boys
flying
through
my
window

maybe
if
i
don't
speak
they
won't
hurt
me
too

How is it that
after all of this
I still find myself dreaming
that you would come back?

Perhaps if I looked
like your tamed beauty
you would have stayed
here with me.

Hiraeth creeps up on you
once more
and lulls you to sleep
with tears in your eyes.

And in your dreams
you are once again
in the land you loved
so dearly.

And you see me,
the ingénue who
you loved
more than anything

The faeries sing
their melodic tintinnabulation.
This inexplicable moment
has gifted the mute with voices

The rain has ended.
The storm has passed.
And the world is new,
coated with petrichor.

And I wonder
if you’ll join me,
and I wonder if you also think
that you and I are sempiternal.

With you and me
here in the woods,
would you agree
to one last dance?

I would hold on tight
and refuse to let you go.
I won’t ever let
that happen again.

But then you would inevitably wake
with that dainty beauty beside you,
with wrinkles on your fingers,
and with a wringing in your heart.

And when morning comes
you will arise from your tear-stained bed
and remind yourself
that you can never come back.

Do you regret leaving me?

But I would die happily
if I were able
to live that ineffable moment
with you.