The moon cascaded on to your skin, shining lights brighter than the northern ones into your eyes, taking pictures of the sun and planting them behind your eyelids, capturing colours from the galaxy and rainbows and painting them in the back of your throat. You're like the fire I used to set in my hands when I couldn't breathe, except this time it's because you resemble the flames dancing in my hands, and you feel like home when your hands close around mine and your arms wrap around my waist, and I love you like I love the sunrise, and cigarettes, which altogether is a ******* lot, and coffee tastes like your breath when you leave for uni and I'm still in bed, and sometimes when you're gone I wear your hoodies which are oversized on me, but I like it because it feels like you're wrapping yourself around me.