you dislike the tiny lines
in the corner of your eyes when you grin,
but i can’t help but think of mercury
and how if you saw her wrinkled surface,
it would surely leave you breathless.
i can spot venus rotating with envy
as she learns there’s yet another,
more radiant being.
you surpass the morning star,
you’re even brighter than the moon
and i think to myself, people can be planets too.
i feel like earth, fascinated with your wonder;
you’re far beyond what is familiar
and i’d erect a thousand starships just to know you.
you gave me your heart, piece by piece,
like chunks of mystical mars plunging to my planet.
i gathered each one up as i fantasize
about sunsets colored blue.
but there’s been this constant storm in my chest—
a red spot that should be a heart—
but it’s just chaos that never seems to pass.
so tell me, is jupiter still worthy
despite how her havoc never ends?
i only hope you love me enough
to linger as i orbit.
but you have options like saturn has moons
and i’m some kind of blizzard,
a girl made of ice like uranus
or neptune melting at your touch;
you hold me and i finally understand
what it must be like to try and breathe in space.
Tag: space
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“people can be planets too”
