“I’m not going to tell you that,
Because you’ll make it a thing.
And it’s not a thing.”

Do you know what else is not a “Thing”
But should totally be ‘Thing-ified’?

I’m not going to lie with you outside at night,
Watching the stars and the moon,

And a plane or whatever. 
Because there’s mosquitoes out there. 

Let’s be practical.
You’ll get sick.
And I’ll have to worry. 
I’d rather not. 

And why would I want to stay out in the cold,
When the same effect can be achieved

Everytime, 
I simply look in your eyes?
I see a smattering of stars. 

Your own constellation. 
A galaxy close-by.

Centre of the Milky-Way.
And those eyes,

They are stars.
Because they burn with an intensity.

Of White-hot fury.
Of white-hot joy. 

Your eyes. 
A smattering of stars. 

It’s not a thing. But it should be. 
And I’ll try and make it. 
Because do you know how annoying it is,

To look at you and know that I may never make you
As happy as you make me?

By René

 Follow René’s blog (click here), for more reads of his.

 

2 Replies to “A Smattering of Stars 

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