There's no time. No time for questions, no time for reasons. Why is it that owning a question mark is so foreign to you? I often wonder what life would be like living with your certainty while I still bounce around through the clouds. I still think of blue coloured marsh mellows as my toes and pink fairy floss as my hair, whipping me in the face as I jump across the worlds that divide us. I want to see how the sunset decorates your skin. I am haunted by the times my name doesn't fill your mouth. I need a word for the way that feels, none of the letters seem to say it properly. I wonder where your spirit lays when you are asleep, when the heavy eyes overcome your breaths and you surrender to the peacefulness of the night. Where do you go in your dreams? I think I always knew I was broken and crumbling; an un fixable front staircase, the stoop where only few choose to sit, but you, you are the platter of fireworks filled with colours no one ever knew existed. You smell like 5am on a summer morning when it is far enough into the year for light to play that early. You smell like rain that stayed after the sun came out, as though mother nature had tripped and spilled a bag of diamonds. You smell like home. Is there enough in you for me? Maybe you are the sea and I am a storm that rages on it. Maybe you are the storm and I am the water made choppy. Maybe it doesn't matter and all we ever do is dance until the salt and the rain get mixed up together.
But it's the breath, the soft rattle that keeps me dancing through my days. Dancing wildly to the song of the moon and the stars. Dancing with the planets against the sound of the ocean, the sound of the trees howling when the wind rushes through their fingers.