i don't know how they do it-
write about how the twinkle in your eye
sparkles more than the stars at night
how your blue orbs
make a sea seem shallow,
when you and i both know-
it's just plain lies.
your eyes are not deeper than oceans
nor do they showcase a storm
or a peaceful beach wave
or the soothing sky
they're just your eyes
and they're blue.
like... a copper sulphate solution.
no
you don’t have a smile
as bright as the sun
although, i can’t seem to understand
why you’d like it to be compared
with something people prefer
to not look directly at.
your laugh is not as vivid as
the first blossom of spring
or your face like that of a winter spent
in some hill station-
you are not a landscape
or a place that can be mapped
with beauty
and serenity
you are a person
living and breathing mass of
bones and flesh
muscles and blood-
then how
how and why
must you be treasured with comparisons
and parallels with
the stars
the sun
the sea
the seasons-
anything but you.
i do not know how they do it
or what words make a rhyme
what stanzas string together a poem
what plot comprises a good story
but i do know my stars
the way they rhyme in their constellations
how their twinkle makes up a good poem
and where their stories began to end
and unlike most poets
(not that i consider myself one)
instead of your eyes
or voice or laugh
instead of 11:11 wishes
or the perfect date ideas
when i look at the stars
i see ***** of fire
and gas
and work that still needs to be researched upon-
while you
you are my person
the one who’s there after a bad day at work
who tells me (every day) that
the next experiment i try
is definitely going to be a success, unlike the ones before
the one who keeps this science freak
grounded to the earth
(even though i insist that it’s gravity bu-)
the one who i won’t mind writing a poem about
even if it’s filled with unrelated references to the stars and moon
even if it compromises everything i’ve ever known
i could still write about you
(i think i’m doing a great job)
even if don’t know how to.