There are stars and there are galaxies and there are people in between tucking at my limbs.
There are planets and there are black holes and there’s a feeling inside of me that burns.
There are lullabies and melodies and songs and notes all intertwined making no sense at all.
And then there is you, beautiful as you are standing in a golden field of dancing daffodils, looking at me with those big eyes, picking at the scabs of my soul.
I see you, smiling in a daze, sparkles in your eyes, a flashback of memories that are not mine. And you twirl in my mind fluent as ever, growing roots in my skin.
Try as I may, I am always driven towards stars, and you my dear are the shooting star of the century and grasping at your trail feels so close. With star dust at your fingertips, trembling over the atmosphere, burning bright to fall into the night sky.
I want you to know, terribly so, that you are warmth and light lost in radiance, and you sound just as a sunny October morning feels.