Benches as gravity is to orbits, the only ones left holding everything together.
Modern day Copernicus assigned her to be his center of attraction as if revolving around, in circles repeatedly, would make the clusters of shimmering stars of letters trapped in his mind burst (being *****, for he can only say much when he’s too broken to remember).
That moment could only scam people who threw pennies into fountains, fail charms acquired from temples of whatever belief it teaches, and
stop lungs. Yes, breathing is just another superstition — he doesn’t need it to feel alive, more so when there’s someone beside him who’s able to breathe him in.
That in silence, he pleads his eyes to speak his heart, but
conversations don’t work that way with disobedient bodies.