StarlightComet

it is 3 p.m. when hope visits me. his t-shirt is light, jeans ripped and frayed at the cuffs, feet bare against the scattered leaves on the ground. the sun hangs halfway in the sky, the breeze carrying the taste of cooler air— it is the kind of weather you fall in love in. when he sits beside me, i shiver. it’s been a while, i say, slipping off my shoes, toes digging into the dirt. thought you’d forgotten about me. his smile is beautiful in its sincerity, eyes blue in their wistfulness. he tells me he’s sorry he’s been gone so long, tells me how much he missed me, tells me— i didn’t realize how much you needed me til now. i trace the veins along his hand, absurdly envious of the blood that flows inside of him, of the fact that we will never be that close. he cups my chin, tilts his head as he reads my face— smirks when he understands my desire. if i could dream, he says, every dream would be about you. when he kisses me, his tongue tastes like summer. he is cotton-candy stained

as he speaks, he stands in front of me, the vibrations of his voice burrowing themselves into my bones. he is powerful in his stance and tragic in his beauty— furrowed brows and deep-set eyes, a long, patrician nose leading to dry, cracked lips. he talks without inflection, as if his passion has seeped out and is pooling at his feet— i run my thumb along my bottom lip, wishing to kneel and drink in every part of him. his gaze meets mine, eyebrow raised— when i smile, his lips rise in the ghost of an answer. his pain is a hidden reflection of my own, buried deeply in his being while i wear mine on my skin. every night we tear each other apart, and not one morning have we helped put ourselves back together. we are strong, and we are weak— colliding and destroying and never rebuilding— inside of each other, we are alive.