the dancing of the stars.

And if all we ever come to are unrequited loves and unfinished dreams, I will love you all the same: the best way I know how.

And if we die for this it will not be because our will was not strong or that we never loved enough: it will be because our hearts were not big enough:

to contain the sad and the bittersweet and the endless sobriety: all at once.

And yet here we lie prostrate in this bed of ages: you listen to the blood sing in my veins and the breath dance in my body: slowly: slowly.

And perhaps we will make a new sky for ourselves: full of the kind of stars that grant wishes that never fade away.

And yet here we are: doomed to this most dying of deaths: caught in time and space: your body forever suspended over mine.