his face is framed by the streetlight flickering dimly behind him and the twilight stretches out beyond it, a timeless expanse of stars and a purple-black sky. he's pointing at the stars. each one is a promise from me to you. his warm chocolate eyes settle on mine, warm and unwavering. but even stars break, a brilliant explosion of shattered faith and imagined trust. he'll laugh and mention how beautiful the sky is tonight. why do i do it to myself? the answer becomes all the more clear yet infinitely more obscure as the night wears on and i lose myself in the depth of the conversation and in the warmth of his hand on mine, the only thing that keeps me from losing myself completely. but i am secure; i am wrapped in his scent and the moonlight and the creak of swingset. the moments stretch on as time inevitably escapes from us, the hues of the sky change to pinks and reds, daunting us. but we are still under eachother's spell. i am filled with his laugh, his voice, his eyes holding mine. he walks me home. he never realizes that he is home now. his eyes, his mouth, his hands, all hold me. after all, home is where the heart is.