your body was the sea,
and i was the ship that wrecked in violent waves of rolling hills
and i finally found the path that led me to the explosions in the sky.
and they were so beautiful, but it wasn't the same without you.
i heard the orchestra build its wall of strings tying up the moon,
kind of like how i am ******* to you.
i saw the flickering of the stars, as though they were dimming
right before my touch -
like a heart skips a beat,
like the gas price jumps,
and the occasional glow
of a person you know
that has
stumbled
over love,
jumped over buildings to reach it.
and here it is,
velvet in my hands,
eroded like the skylines of ancient cities,
beggars grateful for a sip of water,
trees speaking to enriched soils,
with each bright light,
it shines a little more each day
until it is four million blinding suns.
and here it is,
in war zones and over your salty body,
flying kites and airplanes in
a game of tag -
you're it.
i almost blistered my fingertips,
i forgot how the skin could be so protective
like a barrier against
all bitterness, it can be shielded from
your pumping vessel.
somehow, my immunity didn't stand a chance
between your dangerous waves and
how small the north star looks from where you are.
my sails might be torn once i get through to you,
but i'm hoping the explosions above will bind this together.
the compass will tell me how far i am from the coastal lines,
the day i can finally touch the atoms
that make up a ghost,
but until then,
look up and you might see me there.