You are a starchild, born from
the heavenly bodies and all
their celestial love affairs; You
twinkled among the stars and
owned the universe with them,
and yet you came down to
Earth and instead took over
my heart. And you say you
don't remember any of that as
we lay under the planets, but
when I look into your eyes I
see a galaxy. You shine with
a supernatural sort of radiance
that I can't believe to be earthly
and I am awful at science but
when you speak to me, astronomy
makes sense. The universe makes
sense. And you say that, just as
birds and clouds and humans
die, stars eventually die out too.
Our time is short but, darling, we
are infinite. We've become our own
universe. We threw away our mortal
selves when we realized this and
embraced this fleeting moment we
have together; stories never die and
neither will ours. And you say you
want to take me to your place,
among the asteroids and nightlights.
Yesterday I would have said, "No,
I'm afraid of the dark" but mapping
the unknowns of outer space with you,
surely we will become constellations.
And besides, I already am in heaven;
after all, that is what love is, isn't it?