I caught you star gazing last night
You were staring at the ceiling with your eyes full of sprinkles as your body melted into the floor.
I watched your tears fall into to puddles of open clusters,
And the rhythm of your heart beat to the heat of the sun.
I watched your fingers turn to galaxy’s and your hair mold into the earth to become roots thirsty for knowledge from a well of an insomniacs early morning dreams
But these open clusters become disrupted over time,
by the gravitational influence of molecular clouds.
I can feel them pulling at you.
And you let them drown you into the sea.
            It is hypothesized that people like you are made of dust,
Drifters and wanderers full of acid and dope but baby,
I see much more.
Looking through spectacles composed of the ocean floor I see fish swimming through your veins and coal reefs in your ears blocking the airflow from coming in.
I see doctors and lawyers prescribing you pills to keep the love you thought was real from failing and I see great white sharks to swallow your pain with Prozac and Cipralex.
            You know the effects of smoking,
and the pollution to the forest in your lungs but you breathe in the chemicals because were programmed for rat poison to make us feel alive.
You crave sunsets.
But through prescriptions and sleeping pills I see the 95% of the ocean that has not yet been explored and I see crystals forming in the pit of your eyes and I want to tell you that not all tears are worthless and not all paintings are pointless and I see the beauty in dandelions that some people call weeds.
I see the evil in rose petals and the delicacy in the thorns
and I see the world through  eyes that refused to be hazed by politics and religion and the opinions of store clerks when you ask for a lottery ticket with a 20 dollar bill in hand because you hold on to the hope that something will happen and God will reward you for all you’ve done good with a bundle of money and stained glass windows complete with marble floors.
            You hide away your **** rugs collected from japan and feel the wooden floor, scraping each fingernail and crying dark amethyst as your falling to your knees to get closer to hell in order to pray for heaven.
            I turn so I can leave you to gazing,
Then I hear you draw a breath,
You turn to look at me with starfish covering your cheeks and your knuckles branded with scratches from pounding on great metal doors until they set you free.
I see a universe in you.
I see the roots in your hair,
and the sprinkles in your eyes.
I see the coal reefs in your ears,
and the forest in your lungs.
I see the 95% of the ocean that has yet to be explored.