Stars

By
Monday.
When you told me I had stars in my eyes
I wanted to tell you that
Every constellation was for you
Why are you breathing so heavy?
That’s how I breathe.
Your sheets need to be changed and
I’m in love with the side of your face.
Every poem was for you, didn’t you know that?
No mi importa, Fa lo stesso.
Ill get over it.

Wednesday.
Don’t you love me?
I love every second of you,
Head, back, right shoulder, left shoulder
The northsoutheastwest of you
I love every direction of you.
Your eyes slide lazily off me like limp hands
Would you touch my temple again?
With your right hand
Ring and middle finger
And push

Saturday.
Is this falling out of love?
Something here is dead and dying.
You’re getting over me I’d rather be
Under you
But I’ll watch you from the kitchen instead.
I’m late and I have to be there now
Then you should go.
What I meant was you should never leave
You should bring your small and bendable frame to me
And I will push and pull you the
Way you used to let me
I miss you when you’re in front of me.

Monday.
Here is the thing about ends.
Its like missing you in the strangest way
In silent and small ways
That scream whispers at me everywhere
And beg for me to take you back and then leave you again
Beautiful like fingers walking down your back
Like all the constellations in my eyes that still shine just for you





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