Gaze
upon stars, my love, for a fever burns. It’s us, my love,
found
and free, pitching obscenities. I love you more, where
a
tear fashions a smile, and fey touches a heart. We died so
young,
semi-abandoned, counting footprints. I love you more,
where
pain is counseled, and love implodes. We’re a vault
of
bright lights, absorbing volts, and filled with passions.
How
torn a past, fraught with dreams, yearning for ideals. I
push
you to achieve; and you push me to live; for I’m holding
on,
but proud to love, a sculpture of God’s. We’re miracles,
even
breathing petals, beatifying turmoil. Every meal’s a
portrait,
deeply affected, where scars fashion resilience. It
was
ever our lives, molded by fate, and saturated with Spirit.
I’m
enflamed, counting stars, wrestling a ghost. You move
forward,
a warrior of prayers, filled with quasi-visions. Let
us
soar, crashing clouds, a soul of pressures. I love you more,
where
wounds heal, often a silent storm. It’s eternal our hearts,
found in an
afterworld, pleading matrimony.
