this is
where two points collide/
where a body meets a soul/
where that gold tint in the skyline
is a reminder of how a past lover’s hair
appeared in the sunlight.

this is the place where the sky falls;
sun, moon, stars, and clouds
hit the ground. they crash
and they burn.

the ocean spills out so many gentle words.
but like love tokens in the night time
they mean nothing when
what is done
is done.
we are what we are.
scarred and unmade.
messy and undone.

what is holy?
is it the way you hold your lips,
or the straightness of your spine?
the glistening of skin in the moonlight
or the kiss of sweat on your forehead?
or is that just human?

when did i ever
stop being able to tell
the true difference?

in this place where
our points collide
and our stars align
something
slants in our sky
and it falls/flies/forces itself
upon the horizon

inside our rear view
is something we’ll forget
leave the past behind

and the stars,
they shall follow.