Beneath the vast and starry sky we lie,
Where galaxies in quiet splendor spin,
Each touch a comet streaking through the night,
As hearts collide and form a world within.

Our bodies merge like constellations bright,
Mapping the endless reaches of desire,
The space between, a universe alight,
Each whispered breath, a spark, a flare, a fire.

In this expanse, we drift from time and place,
No bounds to what our love can e'er explore,
Like cosmic waves that gently interlace,
We float through space, and ask for nothing more.

For in your arms, I’ve found my world, my sky,
A galaxy where love will never die.

If she were a celestial,
And I among constellations -
Then she would be the sun,
And I the moon.
Then I would be a star,
And her a heavenly angel.
Then I would beam brightly
At the mere presence of her.
Whenever needed,
Never receded
Neither eclipsed,
The light shone would be ours together
No matter the luminous object.
From the pledge of our marriage
There is a beauty so rapturous
In a love bathed to our family,
Fellow friends & strangers
To whom too are showered
In light of our joy & happiness.

suffocate through conversations
like drawing blood from a stone
misplaced faith in constellations
broken hearts and scattered bones
erase the faces, names, and places,
allow those distances to grow
forgive the people that i need
forget the people that i don't.
lest i tire of living alone -
take my hand, and read my palm
find where my falling star may land
i will comply with guiding lights
if i may find a better life

I’d craft you a poem, yet words may fall short,
To capture the joy, the laughter, the rapport.
The very essence of what sets you apart,
The moment we met, the joy in my heart.

Instead, gaze upon the night's starlit design,
Connect the dots, the constellations align.
A grand spectacle, yet a void unseen,
A tapestry incomplete, until you intervened.

Stand amidst the cosmos, in lunar glow,
The missing piece, the truth starts to show.
By now, you must surely know,
How your presence completes this poem I bestow.

i hate how you're so utterly perfect
i wonder if other people also notice it
how your scattered freckles mimic the stars
little dipper's tail has made home by your lips

i hate your contagious smile, that look in your eyes
for your perfect boyfriend and his indie rock band
i am no longer myself; i am hopelessly tossing coins
and wishing to hold a constellation in my hand

You are my anam cara and compass, guiding me through love's winding lanes, each step echoing the ancient tales of our shared longing, forever in my favor.

A promise etched in the constellations, a celestial ode my dearest anam cara.

Our love a whisper carried by Dublin's winds, reaching across time.

The stars themselves bear witness to our timeless bond.

My heart beats with you, a rhythm woven into the fabric of our shared existence.

Each pulse, a whispered promise across time and space, echoing through the chambers of longing.

I made a list of caveats
For the designs you constructed,
From thoughts in my mind
And for one, you know me too closely
It is too frightening
The way you find constellations
In broken skies
And propriety from my colouring
Outside the lines
Then, within my bones, too unstructured,
You found the sun in their moonlight complexion
And you confess your secrets
That these letters and conversations we’ve exchanged
Hang in a gallery in your head

Etched sentiments
And faded drawings of everything resolute

They say I am the girl of luck; tossing coins as if I am expecting everything as I plan, shifting cards as my thoughts are paid by the seven hearts.

We couldn't define luck as we wait in a grocery line or is it just because of our lucky stars traced into constellations, that the universe ruled every inch of our existence.

I was wondering if I could bet for another star and wish it would be you.

There is another thing that the sky is covering up to, parallels are invisible strings that connect us.

You are a myth that the muses talk about,
they tell me how far the stars
that I wouldn't reach you
and how I wander my hands on my brokenness.
It was the traces of how beautiful the blue in your eyes
and the memories of red lanterns
lighting up our way home,
I feel the terror of we might forget
the sound of the eerie cold night.

Parallels are constellations in the skies as if we are remnants of history,
Each night we wished we exist.