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Phosophorescence

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The first time I saw your face
it was in the constellations of the night.
The stars were shooting
not towards their end,
but towards their destination.
I am but a mark on a map,
far away in reality,
but just a few inches away on paper.
I trace the lines to your position,
circle you in red,
so that you will pop out,
even in my dreams.
And when the feverish images of nightmares
take over my mind,
I think of you to expel them,
the light to my darkness.
Don’t let me drown in the abyss.
Pull me up,
show me the way to your flame.
And when the morning light comes,
I will set out to find you again.




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