your words form universes of northern lights, diluted by stars and the constellations of your cold lips against mine. whole mountain ranges sigh and creak, standing on their tiptoes, reaching for the moon, for your rhymes, for you, to be dissolved into snowcapped hours, where broken typewriter keys align with earthquakes and forgotten mistakes. you are a waterfall, an unexplored ocean, the yellow of maps from other people's adventures. you are every undressed superlative that creaks my floorboards and casts across my walls as starlight.