summer has faded. it's remnants of life were in the cinnamon fire of the autumn leaves and the ocean blue m e l a n c h o l y
but i can see it in your eyes. it's the way the stars sing melodies, of watermelon indie and lemonade jazz on a summer day. the halcyon lullabies in your eyes, warmth in the blue melancholy.
the autumn leaves in your eyes, the endless falling and breaking and burning and the pretty sunsets, in the blue melancholy
the lights on the ferris wheel shine like flickers of the sun, the color of the ichor in your veins. the ferris wheel risesandyourhair washes against the wind like waves. the ferris wheel is a constellation and we are its stars.
are you afraid? you speak softly, fingers twisting with mine until they become tangled vines, twisting over the skin of space time and brushing over the night air threaded, with stars
[ key ; ( ) unsaid words ]
no. (i'm not scared because i'm terrified. i can't breathe and i think my heart would have stopped if you hadn't been by my side.)
lean on me. you speak quietly but with the power and the enigma of the prussian blue night sky and the astronomical quietude of orion and cassiopeia behind your words. with the force of moons and rings of space dust and planets colliding and blooming into nebulas to form new worlds
you draw closer to me and i hope you can't hear the sound of my heartbeat pounding through the hollow chamber between my ribs. your slender hands wrap around my shoulders and you hold me like i'm your everything. but i hope i'm not because i'm nothing but a skeleton boy with rotting bones and ribs intertwined with withered wildflowers and the scent of loneliness. because, loving me is deadly.
but you are astronomical, and i've always loved the stars. you are an arcadia lost with the forgotten child you used to be wandering the streets but still holding the blue blue blueblue night in your eyes. the starlit whiskey and the rings of ocean and cosmos and shredded galaxies collapsing into the nebulas that the poets write about
you're the kind of girl that they write songs about, the girl of bruised universes and skin and heart and vessels and arteries of tender blue and yellow the girl who took stars from the sky and painted them over her bruises to create seas of stars, (and scars)
we're so close and faraway, as far as a nebula and as close as home (which is as distant as yesterday)
the gray sidewalk zooms further away. i lean on you. we watch the gray world that will soon gleam like white bones. as we get higher i close my eyes i wouldn't think of falling. but i am falling. both of us. we're falling, like the autumn leaves that withered, like the winter snow that will fade away. we're fleeting like a mayfly, living in the moments that feel like dreams but dreams always break, dreams that made the found lost searching for answers that i want to find too.
i close my eyes and it's as if we're the only ones in the world. as the world tips and turns and s p i n and the ground beneath us flips side ways
your fingers dance along my cold neck like summer raindrops and for a moment more fleeting than us i'm not afraid anymore. open your eyes. you whisper, the city is beautiful tonight.
the darkness behind my eyelids lift and i watch you as the city flashes past reflected in your eyes. you stare at the lights and the cars driving by like shooting stars. you watch the city and i watch you like we're the only people in the world, like we have all the time in the world even if forever is only a moment for us
we both know it. we rushed into it too fast and now we're falling at the speed of light. our destruction will turn universes into ruin. but you're so beautiful, my rose. so beautiful that the poet in me can't stay away.
🌠🌙🌃
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