there’s a lullaby the wind chimes used to hum as i sat outside my house. i observed synodic epiphanies in the sky until all i could do was make a dot-to-dot of your face out of the stars that were almost as intangible as you are and as you always were.

i always found myself searching for traces of you everywhere. the sound of your voice as a symphonic ultrasound echoing from the wind chime to me, just for me. your effervescent hazel eyes (you always insisted they were brown but i’d studied them as a psychologist studies mental health) but you never came.

and trust me, i waited --
i waited for so much as a murmur or a rustled blade of grass when the world stood still and i waited in the morning, the afternoon and i waited all night.

i waited all **** night in nothing but a pair of leggings (you told me i looked “pretty sweet” in them once) and your jumper, the jumper you left at my house on may 16th. hummingbirds were the highlight of your morning and the highlight of my morning was always you.

you made scrambled eggs with milk and only a dash of pepper because too much gave you an itchy throat and then you took my hand and we slow danced along to the sound of the microwave; it was like a heavy duty drill begging to explode but we didn’t care.

i wore your jumper then the way i’m wearing it now, except i’ve tucked my hands into my sleeves because yours aren’t there to hold anymore.

i always found myself not only searching for traces of you everywhere but also searching for you in everybody i've ever met (and probably everybody i ever will meet). where’s that succulent sense of humour? where’s that desirable distaste for all humans besides me? you were intangible but somehow tangible to me and i mused over your ability to turn me from a servant into a queen but my gratitude overwhelmed me too much to question it, or you.

your name is euphonious;
i swirl it around my mouth like expensive champagne.
my stomach can tolerate neither.

We were always a speck of dust in the collective breathing of the universe that permeated into celestial bodies. Two dancing cosmic eggs birthed from the paroxysm of the dying stars and suspended in the vortex of nothingness along with the rogues. Somewhere along the plethora of this unnamed greatness we delve in, I know that someone like you, in all the multifaceted universes, can make someone like me stop and stare at the oblivious things – as if it weren't there just waiting for me to notice.

We were always two laughing faces in the heat of bodies packed together—separable. Two heavenly bodies whose stories to tell were only unbosomed by synodic conjunction or an eclipse. We are the whispers of our own past with windups somewhere underneath the sulky skies, but every night together is the epoch of the two lovers dancing within us — heartily swaying with the music of temerarious fancies between a scared lad and a lonely maiden.

We were always just like this.
Too close, yet too far.

MONDAY, APRIL 22, 1974
On this day the Moon was in a New Moon phase. During this phase the Moon is to close to the sun in the sky to be visible. The moon rises and sets with the sun and is not present in the night sky. Because of this the night sky is darker and an excellent time to view other celestial objects. Like the Full Moon, a New Moon happens at a very specific time when the sun and moon have the same ecliptic longitude and it can be measured down to the second it occurs.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1980
On this day the Moon was in a Full Moon phase. During a Full Moon the moon is 100% illuminated as seen from Earth and is on the opposite side of the Earth from the Sun. The Moon will be visible throughout the night sky rising at sunset in the east and setting with the sunrise the next morning. The point at which a Full Moon occurs can be measured down to a fraction of a second. The time it takes between full moons is known as a Synodic month and is 29.530587981 days long.