Electricity's in the air.
The warm damp wind blows through my hair.
The waves of the lake surge to the top of the dock.
The lights are gone.
Only brightness from the stars above.
And the shocks of yellow bolts.
I lift my head and face to the constillations.
The dark sky opens up and lets the tears fall from it,
Large beads of water that fall onto my face,
Cooling my skin from the heat of the summer day.
I raise my arms out to the sides,
The droplets caressing them as they slide down my body,
Soaking me.
I let out a genuine laugh and open my eyes to the clap of thunder.
The air is alive
and so am I.
I lower my arms and spin in a circle,
My wet hair slapping against my cheeks.
I laugh again and begin to run,
Not sure of where I am going.
Not sure of how to get there.
Just
Running.
Eventually,
I collapse into the soft bed of grass below me
I let it stick to my arms,
Legs,
Feet,
Hair.
The sky continues to give off its light show,
The large cracks and flashes above.
The beauty astounds me.
The danger scares me.
But I feel alive,
Just like the storm.

even before me

before blood in a heart

or in the bathroom sink

and tracing constillations on Eve’s palm in the cool of the evening

breathing life into dust

He’s crazy about me.

Our lives are like constillations
Sure we're in space, nothingness in its fullest meaning
And we have no clue where we're going
But still we are something
We exsist as who we are
And that gives us a form
But what makes us a consteillation is something different.
We are a consteillation because fate has created imaginary lines that lead us on a path we follow till we meet another star.
And that star makes life better for being there
Because if they weren't there hidden among all the stars it just be that another star in the sky.
With a consteillation, you feel whole.