Stares are stellar sightseeing

There’s this certain charm
to lying in your arms
and being able to let
mine fall
and land on you

There’s this certain trick I seem to have mastered.
How else could I’ve just magically stopped being a bastard
and found you?

There’s this certain star
I’ve witnessed from afar.
Yet tonight, in you I see it glimmer.
It’s fading light augurs bliss to sinners.

There’s this certain quirk
to hollowing out your thoughts
when we’re together.

There’s this certain clarity,
just shy of certainty
in the empty essence
that’s become your soul.

When it’s really dark
and your limbs fall apart
like the marionette that
you really are.

When we’ve ceased our ravings of adulation,
and shut off the stars in our eyes.

That’s when the
world will open up
in all its iridescent glory.

But I still see the world in your closed eyes,
and titling my head away from you
and towards the sky
is a challenge in itself
for I can’t
and I will never
be able to tell the difference between the two.


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