perhaps I was
always seeing it
in dreams;

in perpetual motion;
in the color of her
cheeks as she told me
goodbye.

‘cause I never
caught it in the lines
that curved around her
brows when she
told me what
hurt

& where

& when

& why



maybe it was somewhere
written in the
sky

or coded in her
fingertips
as she brushes the
hair from my
eyes


I wondered if she could
tell that I was
high


& that all of this dream
within a dream
would soon be ours in

𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒅𝒖𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

You may not be
The moon or
A star or
The sun
Beaming vision to the world.

But to me
You are
The cute little
Firefly
Casting hope in me.