Snow falls
Over his eyes
Powdered
Cold skin
Hard to the touch

Each flake that falls
He sees her
Differently
What she became
Who she was

He spreads his arms and legs
Gives in to what's beneath
Sinks in
Shudders Erupt from inside
His heart feels like imploding

So his eyes close
They open
Warmth creeps over
She is next to him
They melt

Only one snow angel was there.

The fault
in our
stars

is neither
intensity nor
quantity.

Fear not the cosmos
choked up in creation
might’ve forgotten
some fiery ingredient.

No

The fault
in our stars
is simply
that there are none.

I be smile sick
And tired as books
But I be pondering on a snow-less starfire
freezing
burning
then turning
not changing
but searching.

I be the speckled lights of morning bright
Eyes be pins on skin like needle.
Thoughts be fickle and love be feeble

I be writing skies
then erasing
I be life
            worth screaming.

Sitting on the edge of the unknown
hand-in-hand staring at the sky
we whisper sweet nothings
and watch the celestial turbulence
for tonight,
even the stars are falling for you