My existence is now only
in the space between your lips
and the sheer expanse of what's between your fingertips.
I daily fall
into the canyons of your dimples
and the endless oceans that are your pupils.
I split the stars open
in the hope that I may find
some piece of you in which they left behind.
I've searched through all of heaven
for the ringing of your voice
mistaken for the sound of angels who constantly rejoice.
I dream up
a garden in my mind
in hopes that it will bloom into all the memories we left behind.
I think about our futures,
the chapters we will write,
and instead of despair, I conjure up the strength to stay and fight.