I see how your heart is a diamond-
it is not neat, rather rough-
but all the world’s light is found inside it.
The two letters that have failed us-
meant to define our sphere-
but our whirlwind could never fit inside such stasis.
The lovely ick-
the world of words brought forth-
romantic, platonic, relic, icelandic.
I see how our love is as ironic as it is cosmic-
Neither of us can sleep by ourselves-
But I smell jasmine and you fall into REM to find our catatonic.
I see how our love is as italic as it is critic-
every smile and pulse accentuated-
emboldened to our overthinking selves as to whether or not we should feel it.
I have always seen you as the moon to my tide of our sea.
I will always feel you when in the darkness we can’t see.
Romantic, platonic, our love is a tonic-
A cure for the borders of I C.