17, Still Can't Swim

ten

when we were six we wanted to be astronauts sprinkled in pixie dust so we could craft a planetarium of stellar nebula saints. but it is only an excuse to wonder how the charcoal moon tastes or how the sun smells like ocean waves or how the stars feel as we crave for their touch against our skin; for the hunger that is satiated within.

you make me think of cosmos but often i love how you orbit in my mind like saturn rings. you're a dark matter in the after wave of supernovas that holds my universe together but also like gravity that pulls bodies elusively into a gentle fusion of bluish mania.

now we're seventeen and the world has become cruel that it's a crime to dream. we were robbed by our innocence and held captive by just reaching the stars, but soon after they all crumbled into stardust like forgotten wishes meant to perish somewhere in the sky.

because baby there is no point in dreaming in the first place when i can no longer have you.

๓.
delilah