Love Infinite. ♾️

Wednesday at 04:14 AM

Tonight I Write You Into the Stars
I would unravel every constellation
just to thread their silver through your hair,
turn Cassiopeia into a sigh
that lives only when your breath
brushes the hollow of my throat.
Let me be the small, greedy hours
between midnight and dawn
when the world forgets to watch—
I would steal every soft minute
and press them like violets
between the pages of your palms.
Your name tastes like rain on warm skin,
like the moment a match catches
and remembers it was always meant to burn.
I am ruined for ordinary light now;
only the gold at the edge of your irises
is allowed to call itself morning.
If I could fold time like linen,
I’d lay every future year across your lap
and ask you to choose the ones
you want to keep me in—
then quietly steal the rest anyway,
because I am selfish with eternities
that have your heartbeat in them.
Come closer.
Let me memorize the geography of your pulse
until even God would recognize
the shape of my devotion
in the dark curve of your neck.
I love you the way wine loves oak—
slow, secret, staining everything
with something deeper than color.
I love you the way the tide
never asks permission
to come home.
And if the universe tires of expanding,
if it folds back in on itself one quiet Tuesday,
let it find us like this:
two fools tangled in bedsheets and starlight,
laughing that we ever thought
forever was something
we had to wait for.
Yours—
in every tense,
in every unmade bed,
in every poem I will never finish
because you keep giving me more to say