I know I compare you to the universe, a lot. I talk about how your eyes are like twin suns that explode with hypernovas, and how you have stars on the tips of your fingers, and how you imprint constellations on my skin every time you touch me.
I know I talk about how you make me feel stardust settling in the bottom of my ventricles and the heat of a thousand comet trails beating through my veins at once.
I know I talk about how your lips are the edge of a galaxy and I could never understand the wonder of kissing you, even if I spent the rest of my life doing nothing but that. I talk about how you're made of the residue of planets that collapsed upon themselves and bits of asteroids that still burns in the heat of twinkling stars because the warmth inside you couldn't be from anything earthly.
Oh darling, you're every wondrous thing in this universe wrapped up in a single entity and I know I could travel the infinite universes, and walk through every dimension there is, and never find something so beautiful.
I know I compare you to the universe, a lot. But even the universe hangs it's head in shame at your feet, darling, and I'm sure god will agree.
YOU ARE READING
Acedia
Poetry[ A c e d i a : ennui ; state of torpor or listlessness ; spiritual apathy ] Poetry attempts / Random thoughts / Musings (P.S. I'm not very good at this, don't expect too much. Thanks)
