Your constellations remind me
Of my home, my refuge.
The depths of your dark eyes,
The space between your fingers,
Resting on your rising chest,
Listening to music keeping
You alive, beat by beat.
I see more boundless beauty
In your constellations than
In stories strewn across the sky.
You were made for me.
With a face in a language
Only I can speak,
With constellations telling stories
Only I can translate
During midnight talks,
With midnight touches.


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