I know this to be your nature. An outer rim planet that circles far away from warmth, slowly carving out a path through the stars with a precision that could kill. Inevitable and cruel distance trailing behind you like a custom cloak, made from the dark luxury of our expanding universe for a god-king who decided to leave his crown and wander.
When I dream of you, it’s always just before dawn. I sprint full speed like a storm across rolling grass—a hunter green color that I’ve never seen on living blades while awake. The sweet smell of it breaking under my feet only fuels my desire to move faster and harder, for the pure pleasure of its scent. For the pure pleasure of my body in motion. And when breathless and elated, I lift up my head to see the sunrise, I see you instead.
Two large and sad eyes catching me in their utter gravity. They brim with earthly realm questions whose answers aren’t enough and heavenly realm answers that aren’t meant to be questioned. Ancient and so frustratingly new. Eyes that look at me as though I have some unnamed ability to break the surface tension and let the land of you come free.
We are quiet and still as all of creation and destruction move between us. They say when the earth pulls you through it, it will bless you with its power.
I still don’t know if it’s a blessing to pull you through me.