l
i
n
g
e
r
i
n
g
i've never anchored another,
nor been so catapulted
as to sense without sensory
those high-reaching and
boundless realms where
loving you is littler than
thought and twisted
feel into infinitum.
yet my affections cease not to dwindle
you remain my (mis)guiding light
my lighthouse in the heavens,
wrecking me on earth.
i am not nearly a victim
but mourning is appropriate
for futures focused naively.