heart. keeping the stars alive
You once asked me to write you oceans. And this is what happens when you are heavy on my mind: waves that draw up sentences that have been sleeping at the bottom of a sea. I hold you always in this Atlantis of my soul, willing you to swim back to the surface and join me. The part of me that longs to fly is with you underwater, holding my breath. Above ground, I restlessly float through these streets and stone buildings, somnambulant–my heart paused and lost to you. Not lost, but kept quietly shining, hidden in your hands. Knowing that your bright spirit is keeping the stars alive in all this darkness, that the phosphorescent glow beneath the water's skin is the music of your dreaming. I wait. The tides may try to steal your footprints from the shore, but you always return to me in drifts and dunes. You are the unspoken melody I have forever strained to hear. Somewhere, across this silence,
your tempest whispers only to me.