the stars we're made of

iv

he couldn't glue the grapefruit pieces of his raspberry heart like 

the broken china vase scattered across your milken floors

(moulded back with scars)

it reminded him of tangerine littered eyes and wine bitten lips 

that would gaze at him with mulberry shyness and graze 

across his skin with plum lies (the moon never looked away)

him and her: clementine linked hands swing in the glory of 

nectarine rivers as the stars glitter across the smooth expanse of 

lush grape yards 

and so he questions the moon (dancing with her love) while 

basking in the melody of uncanny sweetness, "Did she ever love me?"

( the moon replies : maybe she does and maybe she doesn't ; and 

you might never truly know what her cherry love meant as you

stay under the blinking sky wishing for her to love you and you

might never believe in her love but you still whisper breathy

confessions upon wine bitten lips and listen to plum lies)

but she whispers 'I love you's' with tangerine littered eyes and

wine bitten lips (and he believes) 

and he knows the moon (never hidden) would understand him;

as he forgets about peach stained conversations held with

cranberry truths and shaded lies ; like the raspberry heart he

couldn't glue

for he loves her and the moon knows and she sees

(but she never really did love him, did she?)

- he is loved

_

Sanem