This man I fell for, he had a compass for a heart and everyone knew I wasn’t one for electro gravity. This man I fell for, his hands were parachuting soldiers and my palms were one of the seven seas not really good for landing on. This man I fell for, he nursed candles on the roof of his mouth and my mom always told me I speak fast enough to birth a hurricane.
This man I longed for, he housed the sun in the brightness of his eyes and mine were desperate sunflowers seeking them out each time he turns. This man I longed for, he had oceans hidden in the corals of his ears and my voice was a heartbreaking whale song too loud, too raw, too real to be contained in echoes. This man I longed for, he taught Icarus how to climb the ladders of his ribcage and all I had dotted on my flesh were moon dust and lunar craters.
This man I breathed for, he let go of balloons in his laughter while I kept roseless thorns and heavy sighs resting on my diaphragm. This man I breathed for, he filled his pockets with freshwater pools for his goldfish hands to swim in and my fingers held the grace of the shark. This man I breathed for, he gave her kisses with the day as their audience and ours were well acquainted with the dark.