Halcyon

the man the skyline made

the azure melts into orange,
sparkling rays on neon veins,
oh, we reign, where the skyline sighs,
just high enough to touch the gates of heaven.
the sky, oh, look, she blushes fiercely,
and is suddenly crimson,
melting like honey over the glass
of our skysill prospect.

and you —
 you're already there,
on the terrace, with your guitar,
hair undone, and tie cut loose,
and see, my love,
how the reality reorients itself,
around your stunning warmth.
my love is grounding,
yet soaring,
higher than the buildings,
than the moon can even
pretend to touch.

you tune the guitar,
fingers slow,
the first note is a whisper
that only i own
a confession to me.
oh, i want all your melodies.
i lean on the railing,
one stilettos' heel pressed to the wall,
we are both worn thin by work,
but the cityscape feels lighter from this ridge.

you are a silhouette cut from twilight,
fingers painting music into air,
and i watch with the stupidest grin,
because the cityscape is jealous.
you smile like you've known me
in every lifetime i've imagined.
below us, the city unravels,
people chasing their tomorrow,
but everyone, look —
i've already found my day after tomorrow.

cobalt night pooling in corners of glass.
the day finally gives up her throne,
the stars arrive late,
 but the moon doesn't mind.
streetlights blink like constellations that envy us.
his silhouette outlined in gold,
mine in citylight silver,
below us cars stream like molten rivers,
but our laughter waltzes across the sky.
we are framed by the skyline,
our jealous audience.
i spin through it,
careless and certain;
our forever is a song,
and we've just begun.

we've stolen the night
and gotten away with it.
the moon keeps time
while your fingers keep me.
we've traded exhaustion for eternity,
and oh, i taste the stunning skyline
on your pristine lips,
salt and metal, and maybe forever.
we've made the best barter ever,
head in the clouds, world at our feet.
i'm under your spell,
and even the sky is jealous
 you can see it in her scattered applause.
we are the best without a pause.

and though I know,
when morning comes,
you'll fade like peace does,
in tall, stunning, metropolis like this,
a dream rinsed out of a teacup sky,
leaving the bruise-coloured memory of dusk,
and the taste of the afterglow of you. 

 because in the end,
it is just me,
 a girl who let the skyline
borrow her loneliness
and shape it into a man
who never existed. 

i'll still look for you
in the gleam of glass towers,
bustling crowds, and insane traffic,
 hoping to glimpse the outline 
i once drew from thin air.
where imaginary lovesstill dance on terraces
and call it mine. 

so what,
 if the love was made of skyline light,
held together by my wishful thinking,
my own midnight invention,
and my soft, shining and stunning lie? 

and when night begins to pour its ink
through the city once again,
i'll return to this terrace,
with the echo of the dream
i painted to keep myself alive. 

you'll stand there anyway,
hair undone, tie-cut loose,
with a guitar in your hands,
fixating me with a gaze, 
that'll make the skyscrapers envious again,
and we'll have another round,
of an imaginary forever,
just you and me,
dancing in the dark.