Those little twinkling points of light.
Allegedly so far away.
But I can see the things they left me.
Remnants, that burn so brightly.
It reminds me of you.
Across a sea of twinkling drops.
Tumbling tsunamis taking too long.
Such violent songs.
Staying afloat amongst these sudden surges.
These sudden urges.
I’d swim across every twinkling star.
All those guiding lights.
Night after night.
After night after night.
But why bother swimming across all those stars?
When you can touch from afar?
I’ll keep telling myself.
I’ll keep touching myself.
It doesn’t mean what you think it means.
Actually it does.
Is this not romance?
Is this not love?
Is this not the photographs I pictured?
Moving, holding, sliding, with you?
I’m almost done love.
No time to internalize.
I’m almost there love.
Hold me close and watch my eyes.