the rise and fall of stars both reside in me, cosmic rifts searing through the skin. each one bleeds a tale to be told, only i can hold—to ache, to remember.
they form constellations to chart—a map of wander and wounds, a framework of a galaxy. but with your slightest, tender touch stellar lifetimes collapse again into light—bright, breathless—blooming into a supernova.
i don’t want to hide when i’m with you.