last time i remember noticing the stars i was laying down on a tennis court.

after a storm.

with her.

there is a poem there. there is a story, something beautiful and artistic enough that it would make you cry.

make you weep.

make you love all over again.

the warmth of the tennis court seeping through a thin tshirts back.

the broad stroked on clouds falling away from the moon and stars. travelling west. clearing a path.

her. a foot away. bundled in herself.

your feet wet because your shoes got soaked walking to the court.

theres so much in there, but i dont want to break it open for you.

i dont want to crack it into a skillet.

you do that.

you take those images, those images i gave and the images you made, and make the rest up.

add my words. my heartbeats. my blood, my heat.

and my fingertips and my breath.

but above all, add her. because without her, it would have been as if i was rolling off the bed. waking up halfway to the floor.

soon i shall sleep.