Space Enthusiast

i'll always love you like you were the fullest sunlight laid gently on the dark bruises of december. my crystalline hands are bound to start wildfires in your name. and finally when the world burns down, i'll mark your spine with these lips made of sunburnt flowers. in the ruins of it all, you still have all my misguided kisses — all my unbidden words. i'll always love you, until azaleas grow on the softest spots, in the mundane collision of our bodies. i'll always love you, until my ribs fall apart to your autumn eyes, like a babylonian temple that has seen the miracles of god. i'll always love you — in state of both madness and kalopsia. in the explosion and rebirth of the stars. i'll always love you — this is my bareness in the most prosaical state. this is my constant, darling — this is my truth.

i have had a bad habit of grieving things that haven't left yet, my love, and it will be the death of me. i will give you all the dusk skies that fit inside my fists — this the dullest aching that my heart can hold. one day, it will fade into the colors of my loneliest nights. i hope that tonight, i choke on all the longing i'm yet to feel — and maybe when you leave, no breath will be loud enough stop the time in crowded airports. no breath will haunt you in manhattan's streets. no breath will beg for you to stay. i hope you find someone to love; i hope city lights fall softly on her neck as she hums your favorite song. i hope her skin tastes like daybreaks and poems. i hope sunsets live and die for her, and that you too, live and die for her and all the cosmic flickers in her eyes. i can already feel you loving her and maybe soon, i'll be forgotten, like this letter under your bed.

If someday the moon calls you by your name don’t be surprised, because every night I tell her about you.