figure strolling along the shore,
eyes fixed to skyline’s needlepoint
tapestry of cold vibrant stars.
I didn’t know much yet
about why you walked alone,
or what axis suddenly
tilted you towards me.
There is something beautiful in mysteries,
I could shape you as anyone,
even though discovery is better
than any being I could ever sculpt.
Even as far back as then,
I was already consumed
with communicating this longing,
with finding songs that spoke in
haunting melodies and beautiful tempos
that would paint the places you’ve unearthed.
You would see me in the distance,
as a cold moon lifts and withdraws,
but the stillness has always been a lie,
a secret I’ve kept sewn close,
a beautiful lethal warmth blooming
around the choice to be faithful,
to believe beyond a heart’s initial flare.
I didn’t know much yet about
why I grow so lonely
when summer arrives,
or why the precision of such heat
only carves this absence further in me.
Even as far back as then,
some axis brought us together,
I knew that you were the lock,
shaping the key would consume me,
you wait beyond the door,
a world within a world
ready to be discovered,
just as flawed as I am
by love’s imprints.
I don’t know how many times
we’ve been here as strangers
drifting along the shore,
as lovers tethered to
the whims of stars.
There is something beautiful in mysteries,
in cycles merging together and pulling apart,
in the secret you and I will keep
beyond a heart’s initial flare.
Because we know stillness is a lie,
a lethal melody that blooms
until there is no longer
any distance between you and I.
