I don’t know what that particular star is called,

There are so many others to worry about,

so many more to read through.

Running my hands over that burner,

and all over you,

and I am not burned.

the perfect pitch?

Laying flat?

and I am not burned//

All of it, please.

All over you, please.

The prefecture.

It’s perfect.

The foreshadowing?

and the delays?

The breaks?

All of it ,

watching,

listening ,

waiting for something to move,

waiting for my teeth to stop chattering

for any of this to make sense,

and for it to warm up

because it’s not even cold…

on your back again?

glistening under that moonlight, solar lights.

floating with me..

thank you.

unfortunately I still don’t know what that particular star is called,,,,

but I still know your name//

I’ll know your name//