My eyes are star bound,

reaching for little bits of gas and earth

in order to become a beloved sun.

Like so many others, I am bound;

by gray, by black, by blue, by the darkest pits.

Though I look up, I see nothing.

Instead, I feel.

Soft sky, soft grass, soft eyes, soft lips,

until there you are

in your sunshine glory and hands like fire.

You are more than light and sound,

deeper than that ever-growing cosmos

that I love to taste in my spare time.

You are oxygen,

and I enjoy every single breath.