I drift across the open sea, the stars are fire flies on the black domed vault of the world or pictures of a wild fire from some time ago. The oceanâs cold, the waterâs calm, you sleep below. Your arms were long, but never reached. Lifeâs long enough, too long when youâre all alone. Meet me at the top of the crooked world.
Where we first met. Weâre piercing the stratosphere. Were thick as thieves. Or weâre self deceived. Your arms could hold, but never held. Lifeâs long enough, itâs to long when youâre unloved. When you said to me, âIâll dream of you.â I said âMeet you there,â but I lied, I never will. Lines of blue and black are striking through. Outline our forms for constellations. Lights from northern skies are robbing you, of skeletons and decent nights rest.