Day 3

 

Love is flames and the darkness

of embers between the cracks of

scarlet glow and is not something

that you forget. Seared in your

delicate memory as a lightning spark,

a star in the velvet black of a 

midnight sky who’s light is still

travelling the 16 billion lightyears

from your heart to mine. The cosmos

aligns when they walk in to the room

and the planets whirl in a dizzy

disarray when they leave your sight,

the dark side of the moon becoming 

visible to only your tearful eyes when

they are gone and dawn burning the

milky twilight when they decide to return.

 

The earth is a microcosm for infatuation,

as it orbits the sun in a desperate need

for its light and warmth, spinning on an

axis as to not get burnt. Do not tell me

that sentimentality is for the wise or that

love is for the elderly when I have watched

the solar system vibrate in time with his

breaths as his ribcage swells and compresses,

inhaling molecules of stardust and exhaling

dark matter into my dreams of light.

 

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