He thought the sky was falling,

And i felt it shatter ever day as the sun was setting,

She landed on my eyes, we always fall together

She blushes as the sun is put to rest,

I like to think she is god's companion, though I'm in love with her

She waits for me in the morning, 

I sneak glances of her through my window, past the rising weeds, the abandoned house, and playset, loving her and her tabletop clouds like mothers behind job windows, and jail cells

Ms. Sky is what I'd call her. if we ever found time to meet, 

Id ask her questions like curious kindegartners who tug on loose shirts and big pants for absolute answers,

Asking her, where she's been, and who she's seen, maybe if she's ever missed me

But struggle to muster to ask, how she does everything so beautifully,

To even begin to explain her signifigance,

How she has become too 'awe' to mimic,

Dear Sky, I say 

(Though she isn't listening) 

You will always be the most awesomely wonderful thing I wish to see every day.