Hm… maybe… Nope.
Potential lifetimes pass in seconds.
As if all your layers could be displayed in two dimensions,
Where the arbiter of your future is an opposable touch
—five hundred characters can somehow adequately describe yours.
This time, you actually can quite put your finger on it.
But your brain can’t know that yet.
Is it basic instinct + fatal attraction, or the other way around?
There’s no one new around you.
I fell in love with a little piece of Sun some time ago… Incandescent little braveheart separated from its truth, I found her amongst the ruins of a love star-crossed, at the dawn of a new age of growth, in a place overflowing with silent self-destruction. But she was beautifully hopeful—an homage to the purest kind of faith—was all too radiant in her reach towards the skies, inspiring others to join her on her climb, providing protection to those who did not. My little sunflower, trying to live up to her namesake. And she did. She was my sunshine, my only sunshine. She made me happy when skies were gray. But she knew that I loved her, and somehow, in her magnificent growth, she grew to love me, too. And for that, there is no gift that can be given, no words which can be expressed. I can only choose to be by her side on her journey towards home, intertwined as our stems shoot infinitely into the heavens above—towards her Mother, the truest, brightest Sun of all.
You are my sunshine.
Sometimes, dreams feel… better.
… like finding a truth that fits,
that wraps itself around your worries,
and whispers into your sadness…
that tells you what you would tell yourself
if you actually knew what to say.
… or crossing paths on the farthest plane,
body and mind finally connecting
without remembering who you are,
or why you came,
or how to put out a wandering flame.