sometimes your eyes are like planets,
wide and round with wonder.
a look into them shows the worlds that orbit in your mind
and the stars that swirl in your chest.
you're forever as young
as seventeen revolutions around the sun,
but your wonder has already been enough
to send you to the stars.
you've flown lightyears
enough to listen to the echoes
of time and memory contained in space dust,
you've made these sounds your songs.
you've commanded shooting stars
and hung from them,
swinging from tail to tail to get to the moon
and believe me, from my windowsill,
i can see you've made it when your moonlight shines on me.
now that you are up there,
i hope you like the view,
at night, i'll always look outside
just to admire you.

She gave him with her cold elvish crystal hands,

a bottle of starlight,

that will protect him from the evil outside and it's poisoning blackness,

for it will show him that there will always be light in his life.

He gave her with his warm, ***** and damaged humanly hands,

a pearl from a shell, from its wavey sea,

of which men have traveled upon for many years.

It will remind her of what a man can give when having a clean and kind soul.

Till this day she has the pearl,

and it makes her smile,

every time when she sees it,

as if,

a human and an elf were meant to be,

a mortal with an immortal.

It's so very quiet tonight,
The mist makes no sound
The creatures are bedded,
Not a soul to be found.
There's a stillness around,
A spirit could get lost
Above the ground.
Only the glam of stars
Pierce the velvet backdrop.
Like a slender grackle,
I **** my head
To hear distant horns and whistles.

The heart wanders at night
searching, searching, searching,
for what remains
or for what has been romanticized,
but was never really there to begin with.

Combing through the debris of failure
with such regularity
that it resonates like an owls talons on cement-
- down a dark hallway.

Yet sometimes in the starlight
the heart finds something that makes everything
brand new once more.

I couldn't decide if the light attached to her
or if she swallowed it whole,
or was engulfed by it,
but there it was, in her hair -
diaphanous strands living in the ether
a little closer to the Gods than I was.

She burned extravagantly in those soft hues,
pining for the garish light of day.

The light plays tricks on you sometimes,
and the heart finds its way out of the woods
remembering sailors tales and old
Aristophanes.