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I will scratch away the moon and breathe in the dust. And put my hands on the sun and stare at the figurines of rust. I will lose myself in the sparkle of your eyes when you hit me with your scarf. And feel my heart beat when I tousle your hair and you blush in surprise. I will accept that it halts the ever-raging fear inside to see you dance. That it stops all the yearning and gives my soul a second chance.
I see traces of you when my fingertips move over the carvings in my desk and all the world’s reality fades into the grotesque. I sense your dreams when I look at the pillow next to mine and I feel they have something divine.
I used to drift across the seas to worlds unkown and always postponed the idea of settling down. I was going to travel until the day I’d die and never stay anywhere long enough to make someone cry. I promised to come back but then I forgot to continue on my track. And now, no matter how far I spread those wings, no matter how fast I run, no matter how hard I fight – I’m bound to stay and fall into the songs you sing.
It makes you miserable, you say, to think of me gone. And I know everything that I have ever been and ever will be: I am alive.

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