Faint starlight.
Fireflies exploding,
buggy fireworks floating on wind’s twilight odes.
Starlight strengthens.
Clouds pulsate in evening’s indigo bosom,
undulating waves to crown the trees.
You and I, falling.
The moon shrieks bright from behind a cloud
setting fire to my milky skin.
Cold fire. A hand-me-down from stars
blazing trillions of light-years away.
Goosebumps.
Next to me, you sink further into blackness
a rolling darkness,
you, creature made of night’s pitch
sunless eternities coloring your inky skin.
The moon fades.
Clouds extinguish its fire. My skin is burnt-out charcoal.
You and I are twins again,
lost blacknesses between fireflies and starlight.
You and I, my shadow.
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