Our love was poetic, the type that you find writers writing about in their journals. Trying to find ways to compare the burning sensation our hearts feel when our bodies touch.
Does it look similar to the way a star dies- colours imploding and spraying a pitch black emptiness with a spectrum of colours so surreal it seems as if the universe took acid.

Would they start to write about how it’s so destructive that it reminds them of the California wildfires that engulf acres in minutes.

Our love, it reminded them of the way the ocean felt- vast and mysterious. They wrote about the way the moon would pull against the ocean and the way the ocean pushed back, telling the world about how I would hold you close against my body and you would push away, our bodies like the waves.

We were beautiful.

Stars melted at the sight of our kisses, creating supernovas that would make the unknown elements that sit at the bottom of our bellies like undiscovered essentials that make us whole.
Broken pieces that came together better than puzzle pieces.
Our love was endless.

So why did you go?