One. Two steps. Now take two back.
I catch a glimpse of you —mid pondering
the formulas that sometimes often drift pass your visions. Beaming thoughts spill from your cranium, I watch the stress lines shifting to make room for the invisible tears that streak your face. I stare pass your orbitals to catch a flicker of your soul, but I still—
after all these centuries chasing shooting stars across a speckled abyss together,
and even after half a decade
of forging memories into the celestialsphere to relive a thousand years from now; I still cannot read you. Any ignition of your fire nowadays seems to illuminate our darkness just long enough to watch portions of our puzzle pieces falling into their respective places.
Some fall fast, others slow, and surely they all have seen their share of dousing, singeing, and rips along their descent, but the heavens have shown them great mercies —for none of them were lost along the wretched way. Grateful for the sparks I am:
those who set fires in the midst of the great forever night,
comforted by the pitter patter, the slaps and slops,
humbled with the discolored, disfigured patterns of pieces cascading like Halley’s tail descending upon our tattered blackboard canvas.
—♥ S. Marie