Some nights, my heart pumps the stars through my veins of spider's silk and my nerves are electrical wires that the little blue birds always land on.
Some nights, I bring the world to my couch, the tips of my toes as whistful beetles, my hips as ferocious ocean waves and my darkened skin as the polluted earth.
Some nights I wish you were the leaves.
I wish you covered every little scab and scar of me
I wish you were the pillow that my peaceful planet rests on - the softness of an overcast sky and the sharpness of a thorn, or maybe the tail of a falling star.
Some nights my limbs are braches swaying to the beat of the still air, reaching for the electric sadness.
My soul is pure kinetic energy and the pads of my fingers are the magnetism keeping me to you and the sun to water.
Some nights, I am the earth.