Those galaxies hover outside our safety. They swing hard destiny. They mock and whisper, shred our hopes into confetti sprinkled on the avenues of gravity, where the spin and weight of us expires against the whirl of substance. We bank on love to keep us tethered to home, but it ever loosens as nights forfeit their hold and stars drown in sunlight. She’s life. She blesses every second , yet no books are written for her, no respects paid by her cold children. Souls of ice, we graft ourselves to each other and gain little footing under her warm embrace. For we want to be melted. We want to die in the ecstasy of belonging, where our souls mix with the dark and bleed into forever light. #poem #poetry #writer #writing #dawn #sun #irispad #early #clouds #window #light #backlit #silhouette (at Fleeting Beginnings)