My heart pounds like the Leonids. I fail to find the voice to console her. I do not wish to be the reclining Moon, Nor the twilight that reminds her of the little things. She has the eyes of a heavenly body, I love her blindly. And as the slow lightyear of a tear Shoots down to her lips, I wonder How the stars really taste like. And so we kiss,
Stop the train, I want to kiss her, Before she falls into another lips. Stop the train, I want to give her a flower, before she falls into another garden. Stop the ******* train, I want to write her a poem, Before I **** myself.