I haven't got a lot of sleep this week
and he seeps athleticism like a sickly sweet
Melted galaxies give me the head rush I crave
Dazzling salmon mountains, a riptide to part the waves
Bister crystals reflecting their own source of lights
Canyon voice reminders that this will have to suffice
I inhale him
and see it is he I fear more than anything
This is my choice, on my whim,
I'm leaving just so I will have the chance to see him again.