our stars align so scarily well.
sun destroying passion, brighter than a nova, shooting across the sky in a flurry of outbursts and blazing eyes. intense red hearts made of burning galaxies of fiery comets. we are not made from stardust, but both consume the fragments of space in our path. it is not fury or violent cries, but desire and love so ardent, a black hole would fade out of sight.
and sometimes i am scared of that happening. our stars clashing together with that same fervent vigor that lights our souls aflame. exploding together so that we will fall into a million pieces, and never be put together— drift into the glacial abyss of an endless universe, without each other to keep that oxygen burning.
our stars are crafted into the sky; hopefully infinite.
