He carries stars in his pocketsbecause he knowsshe fears the dark.Whenever sadness pays her a visithe paints galaxieson the back of her hands.

If the boy who drawslets you look over his shoulder.If the poetsmilesand shows you her words.If the girl who sings for the shower only,hums a songin front of you.Know that you’re no longer a personbut the airand dustthat fills their lungs.When the world perishes,and all things cease to exist,you’ll remain inside an ink stain,a paint brush,a song.Poem N. 8

Listen.I will lose myselfif it means I can find you.

Exist with me. We'd do so beautifully.

I need you to love me the same waythe moon orbits around the earth,without intention to stop."Confessing the heart

She met a boyand called him Stargazerbecause instead of poemshe recited the names of constellations.He said the freckles on his armswere roadmaps to the sky,and the bruises that he carriedwere supernovas in disguise."Stargazer