I muse that you don’t love me

when really

that string touches all the way

to Orion

and wraps itself around Pleiades

 

I like to make up excuses for you

say that you don’t touch me

not like you used to

but heaven weeps

when your fingers lay over mine

 

I tell them that this is nothing

you are a phase

yet when I look into those eyes

they hold

the answers to the seasons

 

There is a reason

for my beautiful lies

why I can’t look past

those eyes

and they don’t have to know why

 

They don’t have to know

that you are my air

my universe

the very essence of my being

because even I hardly know

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