illuminating the skies
along with the flowers that have died
going up north,
further up forth

an ocean of stars
making up our galaxy
our universe will not die
because of these stars
an ocean in the sky
will be yours and mine

"What is your favorite song?", I asked you.

"What is your favorite love story?", I asked myself.

"What is yours?", the question asked herself.

"I am yours", the answers answered their will.

will my day change if the moon is out at 11:37 in the morning
and the sun at 1:02 at night?

will my feelings change with the wind or the waves?

i heard you treasure your anklet,
to lose it you won't let,
in that case, I wanna be that bracelet,
that you'll never forget

you say you love this band,
though I do not really understand.
but if you demand,
I'll let myself be ******

and you tell you like your coffee
with a little side of berry,
if so let me be your cherry
if only you just let me.

true enough I liked you first,
these feelings perhaps are cursed.
however even in your worst,
i'd still wanna be yours.

These orchids are yours, and with them, all colours known to earthly sight.

They shall prove rigid, ever blocking Time's course, professing eternity their right.

Roses express my affections well; blooming amidst the warmth of Summer, fed to satisfaction by the dew of your lips . . . yet they shall wither.

Then dry dust shall be my affections' well; blooming Lycoris Radiata legions advancing amidst the warmth of Death's banner . . . Towards our love's ellipse . . .

YET -

These orchids are yours, and with them, the multi-folded papers from which their fibres and petals are equally composed. These are humble gifts, but were they to boast: "We orchids offer to thine love, an eternity; an assurance of perpetuity, by toast."