staring at pictures of you
because i love your eyelashes
and your heavy eyes.
you look so sickly,
and tired,
but that's okay,
so am i.

we are magnetic stars
spiraling through the cold ocean of space.
colliding, my lungs fill with ink
joining frail hand in hand,
meeting softly,
sharing an oxygen tank.

our bedroom walls are the same,
our hearts: the same frame
your crooked teeth
and my awkward smile
almost— fit perfectly.