once i told you, with stars in my eyes, plotting galaxies that we'd button our shirts into each other like they do in the songs eternity just two heartfilled grasps away
but you don't wear button down shirts (we don't have eternity)
we serenade each other with careless bullets one strayed too close, close to the softest parts of me, tender like the inside of an oyster but there is beauty in pain, deliverance in suffering whispered clichés in the dark of night when not one, but two hearts beat out of sync with an ocean between them
it’s the petty and innocuous that paralyze and my liquid love solidifies into something colder, harder like armor
constant is the physical distance but further apart we grow i tell myself it's for the best;
part 2.
once i told you, with stars in my eyes, plotting galaxies that we'd button our shirts into each other like they do in the songs eternity just two heartfilled grasps away
you still don't wear button down shirts (what is eternity but a nebulous concept)
armor shed, romanticism stripped away pooling around my feet, still silky soft and woven of white lies the me that emerges is not brimstone and sulphur, not pearly tears and glassy eyes
i know not what i am but a bolder version of myself sharp edges now more rounded whittled down
and you, all the more suspicious as though i am an illusion shades away from disappearing
but we begin again, more conscious and cautious than before dancing around each other gently probing
our hearts beat out of sync (as they should have from the beginning) we are not one, but two, after all; it’s for the best