"Flower and stars"
"Beautiful things, for beautiful people"
"My dress and your eyes?"
"I'm looking up again, am I?"
"Keep gazing Wanderer, I don't mind"
"But let my hand fall behind your head?"
"Only if you promise to stay beside me"
"And we can stare at the night"
"And you might give me a fright"
"Don't be scared my dear!"
"With me you've got nothing to, fear?"
"Where else should we go?"
"With you, no place we've known!"
"So finish this champagne with me"
"And one last bite for good"
"This one, looks perfect in your hair"
"You seem to be my own constellation"
"Will you bloom near me?"
"Will you pass me by?"
"Keep me close to you
On the ground, moving up"
"Let me see you
High up there, high on our luck"
She loved how he traced her freckles,
Connecting those tiny blemishes with his fingers
Patching her pieces little by little, her precious tinker
And he loved how she never knew,
How he memorized them and traced Andromedae like a tatoo
Picking her chains, hoping to unclog her soon.
I cant take this no more
Everything's out of control
I'm flat on the floor
Starting straight up at the sky
About every constellation
Realising that you're my favorite
You light up the sky
You are my light in the darkness
You guide me along the way
All the way to you
his smile glowed like the universal stars
that hung up the dim lit night sky
which could be admired from afar
by a certain whose dream was to trace
the distant constellations of dream and night
but that smile was up there to uphold
the said so unreachable dream
where all galaxies far away
was found in a stretch of a boy's lips
I carry the clothes on my body–
a plain t-shirt and sweater leggings–
attempting to stay warm and keep cool.
I carry my backpack,
my heavy, heavy backpack,
to carry the things I can’t carry in my arms…
my books, pencils, papers, and keys.
In my arms I sometimes carry more books,
sometimes a cup of chai, and sometimes, nothing. Sometimes
I wish I carried a little bit more time;
then I could carry the things I’ve left behind.
I carry all the parts of me simultaneously, and I am full now.
I carry my eyes, for without them, my path would be blurred,
and I would be ignorant.
I carry my ears to hear music and dissonance and
I carry a heart to feel the soundwaves and make sense of them.
I carry my nose to hold the sweetness of a flower in my lungs,
and skin to caress their soft petals,
without plucking them.
When I carry nothing, I sleep,
and in my dreams, I carry the clouds and the stars beyond them.
From there I may see the things I have yet to carry.
I carry my own weight across the populated Earth.
I carry my own gravity and the light of the sun.
I carry the stars from my dreams, and from them,
I create constellations in broad daylight.
I carry my heart.
I carry the soundwaves of voices like
space nymphs, singing songs I want to remember.
I carry the sight of people coming closer and drifting further from me,
escaping and re-entering my orbit,
an arm-length or a light-year away.
I carry their images and sometimes,
I reach for their silhouettes and I try to feel their thoughts.
I carry my heart and it is full.
My heart is filled with emotion,
and my emotions are the Earth’s turbulent winds
across a golden, sun-kissed field and
the sound of a waterfall crashing into
a pool of water at the bottom of the valley, and
equally the eye of the storm in which
the world is a spinning oblivion,
but here, it is quiet.
My heart is the recollection of times past
in a yellowed, well-worn tome awaiting a reader and
the diary of someone whose story begs to be forgotten.
My heart beats for someone to understand its journey,
but it longs to understand what it beats for.
I carry the silence and the music alike;
I carry the Earth and all its wonders.