Feb 2017
I can count the constellations in your eyes
and tell which stars you named after me.
I know you swallowed the sun, I can see it shining through your teeth
and don't think I didn't notice
the scorch marks on your lips.
You've been bathing in moonlight again, your hair is slick with it
and there's dust on your shoes.
And though you have multitudes of galaxies to get lost in,
I will send satellites to rope you in
and anchor you to my horizon.
Embrace my atmosphere,
there's more room to breathe when we're this close.
Can you feel how cold it is?
I can see my breath, a vapor so thick it's obscuring your light.
I can't reach the rings you wear on the tips of your fingers,
so instead I will slip my hands
deep into your pockets
to steal your darkness away from you.
I wear it better anyway.
See! I love the way you smile at my touch and pull me in close, so that even the clouds don't fit between us.
What's it like, being infinite?
I know from up there you can see
the craters in my skin,
Wide crevices where the truth was chipped away.
I know you can see the forests of freckles,
the laugh lines that carve through mountains
that have crows feet perched in their peaks.
I know you can see the empty pools my eyes once were,
before they saw you and filled
because they finally found something to look at.
What's it like, to see everything?
It seems unfair,
how you can see the depths of my oceans
And the breadth of the deserts
where oceans once lay,
when I can't even see
what's behind you.
I want to see the ladder where your ribs meet your spine.
I want to see the scars on your shoulders carved by the comets that grazed them.
I want to see the bottom of your foot
so I can look at your sole and see how heavy your steps were before you met me.
I want to see the parts of yourself that you can't look at.
If I am a divine body,
you are the divinity
without you I wouldn't be able to see heaven
but for the stars above.
And if that means that sometimes I can't see the dark sides of your moons,
I can take solace in the fact that
you only want to show me the light.
and tell which stars you named after me.
I know you swallowed the sun, I can see it shining through your teeth
and don't think I didn't notice
the scorch marks on your lips.
You've been bathing in moonlight again, your hair is slick with it
and there's dust on your shoes.
And though you have multitudes of galaxies to get lost in,
I will send satellites to rope you in
and anchor you to my horizon.
Embrace my atmosphere,
there's more room to breathe when we're this close.
Can you feel how cold it is?
I can see my breath, a vapor so thick it's obscuring your light.
I can't reach the rings you wear on the tips of your fingers,
so instead I will slip my hands
deep into your pockets
to steal your darkness away from you.
I wear it better anyway.
See! I love the way you smile at my touch and pull me in close, so that even the clouds don't fit between us.
What's it like, being infinite?
I know from up there you can see
the craters in my skin,
Wide crevices where the truth was chipped away.
I know you can see the forests of freckles,
the laugh lines that carve through mountains
that have crows feet perched in their peaks.
I know you can see the empty pools my eyes once were,
before they saw you and filled
because they finally found something to look at.
What's it like, to see everything?
It seems unfair,
how you can see the depths of my oceans
And the breadth of the deserts
where oceans once lay,
when I can't even see
what's behind you.
I want to see the ladder where your ribs meet your spine.
I want to see the scars on your shoulders carved by the comets that grazed them.
I want to see the bottom of your foot
so I can look at your sole and see how heavy your steps were before you met me.
I want to see the parts of yourself that you can't look at.
If I am a divine body,
you are the divinity
without you I wouldn't be able to see heaven
but for the stars above.
And if that means that sometimes I can't see the dark sides of your moons,
I can take solace in the fact that
you only want to show me the light.
