Nestled in the woods, under the pale milky glow of the crescent moon, with my head on your chest, the only sounds I could hear were our heartbeats intertwined, beating in perfect synchrony, echoing into the night that didn't stir with a single whisper.
"My dad always said, when you're lost, look for the stars. They'll guide you."
The corners of your mouth twitched upwards with amusement as you pulled me closer into your comforting warmth.
Looking up at the night sky speckled with a smattering of diamond-like stars, some flickering into existence for a few moments, obliterating the darkness within. A shimmering blade of silver glided across the heavens, like a razor slicing into a vast expanse of black.
"Wow, it's beautiful isn't it?" I breathed in wonder.
"Yeah, it is." You smiled.
You once told me,
if you're lost, follow the stars
They'll guide your way
But you don't understand
For in your eyes was my entire universe
YOU ARE READING
Ballads of a Cloud Walker
Poésienefilibata (n) lit. "cloud-walker"; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams highest ranking: 692 in Poetry
