There are times that pass us

Where the looks in the eyes if our counterparts don't seem to reflect the ocean of haphazard fishes that float to the surface of our own.

We all have this life, this temporary state of being before stumbling upon the key which unlocks our next current,
jet stream,
whirlpool,
flood.

I think of you-
not often,
more than often enough.
I know you witnessed my recalibration
cause tough love is rough
but we grow from it
and stuff

You were so beautiful
with those scars painted on your eyes
And I was so beautiful
pumping veins made by starlights of ancient skies

I was lost in my lovely time