Until the stars crash, the clouds wave back with whisking foam. Twinking, glowing, black with morning dew to greet this coming you alive.

Until affections rise in reflective ways, as moon and stars unite, with pinions that of a lovers embrace.

To stay, I must until such heaven returns, and reunites with soul to be, believed. Know that I want to, but for me. I will only think of you beneath walking trees, with thoughts small as bugs beneath celestial day. In my own time and wantingly, quietly way.