Let me tell you about the man who owns every word I write;
There's a wildfire inside him that catches but doesn't burn. He's a gray wolf that has imprinted his howl on the moon. His heart is frozen but it melts in my storm. He is every metaphor I write in my poems.
Loving him is both chaos and calm, he freezes and burns me at the same time. I'm counting galaxies in his eyes and I'm tracing constellations in his arms. I am a suspended star in his empyreal. I am a drop of water in his endless ocean. I'm forever lost in his coldness and warmth, a message in a bottle that floats through time.
This is how I love him. Always have, always will.
YOU ARE READING
Written Constellations
PoetryA constellation of prose, poetry, and verses spun together for a galaxy of love, life, heartache, and hope.
