i think about the songs i wish i could write about you
deep and sweeping words that would compare your eyes to the sky and your laugh to starlight
compare the curves of your body to the most breathtaking places in the world and every childhood story you've told me to yards of silk folded and stored reverently in the attic of my head, on the shelf closest to my eyes so i'll remember them always
but then i remember that
these verses tied to your wrists with delicate, translucent chords
while they may make the tide trace currents in the lines in your face
they will not make your heart collide with mine