It’s one of those nights where I miss the way you breathe out the stars when you laugh, freckling the sky’s velvet skin with drops of gold. Your lips were the sun which I orbited myself around and your eyes the moons which pulled my tides. The Milky Way that was your skin felt just like Heaven beneath my touch and your lips on mine ignited an incandescent supernova. And as I lay here now I think back to the black hole that collapsed our celestial world. All that we knew died.
Not with a whimper, but with a bang.
— Tia Daubas