All the stars are falling down.
Make a wish —
maybe we’ll fall in love
before they hit the ground.
And if it fails, I guess we’re
just crashing down.

                                     To shot my shot, and try to be
                                     your shooting star —
                                     aimed so high,
                                     but I was falling too fast
                                     at the sight of your brown eyes,
                                     soft as cosmic dust.

I’m the dusk, you’re the sun —
and if we make love
to make a son,
will that light save us,
or are we still just crashing down?

                            Until then - hold me in the silence
                            between the boom and the burn —
                            where gravity forgets us,
                            and stars don’t return.

And if we’re meant to fall,
then let it be together —
two sparks in the dark,
pretending we’re forever.

                          Even if we burn out
                          before the dawn,
                          at least we lit the sky while
                          we were on.

The muted softness of the pastels,
Soft enough to be an infant's nursery,
Gently filled the post-dawn sky.
I wondered what the sunrise would bring.
The warm glow began to simmer
Along the horizon on the eastern view
Like the start of the Smithy's forge
Blown from its soft glow into a blaze.
The sun came with its fire rising,
Arcing red-hot around the sun.
Within these moments, a new day, born.

I stitched your name
into the skin of comets,
let galaxies swallow
my wondering.

You move
like a forgotten god
all presence,
no proof.

If I bloom
in the back of your mind,
it is only
as static,
or ash,
or a planet
that never quite formed.

You were a constellation
I tried to hold
in trembling orbit
but gravity,
too desperate,
fractures the sky.

So I learned to love you
like the moon loves the tide
from a distance,
pulling gently,
never asking
you to stay.