It is a painful thing,

This love for you...

And yet, I cherish every tortuous

Moment, breathing the scent of

The ocean-mingled stars as if it

Was your cologne,

As if you were here by my side and

I could reach out a hand and touch you.

We balance so precariously,

One slip on the razor’s edge—

That’s all it would take

To cut the fragile thread binding us

          (so it may seem).

Silver and gold, lava-fired in the cauldron

Of our entwined destiny,

Two beating halves of one heart.

You breathe, I exhale.

Those stars are wicked lovers,

A Scorpion-stung Virgin—

A Shooting Star there on the scales.

So my heart is divided in the west,

A parted oyster divulging my pearl...

It is for you, only for you.