Sun

I got to wake up from the intense shaking of your heart against my chest.

A curl of your hair was tingling my neck,

mesmerized by your delicate scent,

reminding me of sunflowers and crunchy leaves.

Your fingers around my waist were cold, oh so cold!

Maybe that’s why you love the summer so much

and you’re telling me that you have a cold heart.

Your breathing is so quick it scares me to death.

Is someone chasing you away in your dreams?

I turned and pressed your head against my chest

in a desperate attempt of saving you from your chasers.

Feet tangled in a beautiful mess,

hair sprawled out like you took a shot in the head.

Your soul is pure, purest than the snow falling on red noses,

maybe that’s why you’d take a shot for anyone.

Ashes, ashes;

planting a kiss on your forehead feels like an untamed fire

trying to be put out by the tears flirting with the edges of your eyelashes.

Ashes are all I can see in your cloudy eyes

when the sun fell on them and kissed you awake.

You opened your chapped lips to speak but instead, I planted a kiss on them.

A green sprout emerged from their edge.

       “I love you, my honey pie”

I hadn’t dared to spell these words before;

they would stick in my throat and my lungs would deflate.

But how could I, so selfishly, keep these words for me

when you’re breathing stars from a faraway galaxy?

I noticed the dullest star in the vast sea of people and

I took it for me

just so I could make it the sun.