I was so tired and frayed.
I wondered what moon you saw from that distant planet.
Outer space caused a great famine
Did you allow your lungs to love
An ounce of it if any, love.
Define our love in a sentimental mood.
A gravitational pull that holds my hand.
Exceptions where we let go to kiss the sun. We fall down around 12 to 1.
Coming back, warm in our commotion of fantasies. We spoke our mind telepathically.
You were so tired and frayed.
You wondered what moon I saw from that distant planet.
Outer space caused a great famine
Did I allow my lungs to love
An ounce of it if any, love?
Remember high tides in October? dressed up lovers, bittersweet contour? two mirrors colliding.
We became a downward spiral till we couldn’t call ‘us’ anymore.
No matter how much I see it, it’s just you and me but not the way it used to be.
We were so tired and frayed.
We wondered what moon we saw from that distant planet of ours.
Outer space caused a great famine in thought..
..The in-between which we could not meet made it hard.
We loved with every crevice of our body but with the last drop there was nothing to breathe from.
An ounce of it if any.
This was based on past experience. It was through codependency and the miserable lack of communication , I could get a better understanding of what bittersweet viper bites feel like when it comes to love someone and let them go. For both of your betterment.
(we are adjusting and growing and learning together)
