Cooking up a blizzard. Lost and unguided tendrils of space hold me captive, the trebles of your heart beating leads me back to my my Home. That infinite gaze of yours into my dilapidated eyes, is like a portal to you to look into my soul. You blanket all my darkness With your semi-pixie cut. You’re my tree of knowledge I bask in it’s shade. Powdered Sugar coating on cupcakes. Your silk armour protects your vulnerability, My sincere apologies to all the arrows that gaped through. Cover me under your angel wings, Dab away my streaming reservoirs and replace them with pollen and sweet nectar. Your wishbone sacramental daydreams and dreams. I feel so lost without you. Bandage my old wounds with your tender hands, Kiss me with your lush lips sending jolts of star dust upstream, within my veins dancing with yours palpitating feet. My shot of euphoria and bleeding antidote. My poetry. You, Kalon. Let’s raise a toast to your beauté remarquable éternel, mon soleil your free spirit, your beauty of a ghost, your heart racing with joy, your heart steaming up with reticent sadness, build up anger that come crashing down like a typhoon detaching from the human perspecta. I miss you. Your emotional mess and literal mess, I’m your magic broom. You, my inspiration. You, my groove. You, my you. You. My everyone and everything. You’re fun filled supressed omnipresent electric feel. You, The only Solis in my galaxy. I love you. Sharing your grandoise orangy tinge yellow light. Bottling up a few star in a bottle of red wine, For her Luna. Solis is 21 a (000,000,000) today. **You’re irreplacable.