Poetry – A cosmic thief

To know you is like the feeling,
stretched out beneath the encompassing night.
Out where the city can’t envelop the stars.

A lucky witness to a miracle-
My eyes darting from mote to distant mote.
Wanting to devour each in turn.
To take in each twinkling complexity.

Lately I find no comfort in the stars.
Each point nothing in comparison to the constellations in your eyes.
As if the stars themselves have been replaced,
Snuck away to bless you luminous.

But they still remind me.
The truth of the stars is the truth of you,
Blessed to behold.

(I still remember when I wrote this. The look you had when you realized I really did like you. That someone genuinely gave a shit and actually wanted to try. 166 days left)