Roses, Cherry Vodka & Her Perfume

Star*Crossed

i. when we first met
I was an owl-eyed dreamer,
surely, I was the moon;
lonely and surrounded by
the dark thick blanket,
shivering in the arms of
an oxygen-deprived sky that
didn't want me,
and you,

I assumed that you,
the pretty Miami girl with
the loud, silent presence were the sun;
the half cracked grin you gave me
lit your eyes and I felt warm,
like I was melting and I knew,
that around you, I would be
in danger of falling from
my numbing velvet atmosphere,
down towards the flames that
curled around you

but the sun and the moon will never
have the slight chance of gracing
each other because they are
opposite sides of the spectrum
and I couldn't handle that so,
I ran

ii. It took me so many missed moments
to find out that I was wrong;
you are not the sun, that I
was not the moon but that

you are the moon,
I am the sea,
we aren't too different just
two different mysteries

iii. there is no hint of the dark side
of the moon, only speculation and you
still manage to glow and light
the darkness that used to
consume me; that reaches for you but
you move across the sky,
leaving me over and over and over
again but I've come to realize that
your love comes only in phases
and I will never know
all of it

it doesn't matter,
I know all the craters you have
and every flaw you harbor
makes you beautiful

iv. no one knows the exact depths
of the sea, and I tend to lose myself
in riptide memories, crashing
in skewed and slowing heart-beat
waves and I break against the shores,
skimming only shallowly but
I am not controlled; only contained, feigning calm despite my
inner calamity because I have realized
that I am drowning

v. you were always just out of reach,
longed for by other dreamers but
even then I knew that you were an
undeniable piece of me that
I hadn't known before,
I still remember the nights
when I wanted to just not be;
to not breathe,
then you appeared,
moving me with tides and
gently kissing my wide,
salt-stained eyes but the nights
you are not there are dark and
I've always had trouble seeing

I want to reach out and touch you
but I cannot;
you are suspended;
resting in the forever-midnight,
star-speckled sky where
your road is clear and paved with
silver and I am grounded;
too weighted by dead mermaids and
sunken ships where treasures
will never be found and all I have
is your reflection pressing against me

vi. most times I hope that
there will come a day
when the fates decide to stop being
so cruel, that they'll find a way to
send pieces of me to you, to let me
just a little bit closer to you
but it will never be enough
until we are together

but you say that you do not
want these recycled pieces of me;
that you know how to swim