The Stars Lose Their Lustre

In my mind
our two galaxies collide
as the moon frost
sparkles up the crystals in your hair.
I want you to know that I thought of you as the sounds
in my head reached splendid cacophony,
geared only by the silence or their orbits:

The engine that moves the stars a little,
the sky that murmurs and slows a little in the cold
but for the ocean of blackness beyond.
I can hear them crying for intensity they’ll never again find -

Once the fires burn down
our eyes lose their lustre,
standing on the snowy precipice
where the holes of life are not so thick
in your calloused skin and mine:

I know we’ll never see a match again,
but let me hold you anyway…

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