Until then, I will roll myself up
into this blanket of words and phrases,
I will make friends with thoughts and dreams.
Until then I will say to the stars
that they were unborn once, and that I
was born from them, once
One day, the stars too will be gone,
Some have, it seems, already died
but shine anyway as though
They were ghosts of my words and dreams
Refusing to believe
in a death that spells silence.
Until then, there will be words,
more of these letters and spaces strung together
Forcing meaning into sounds and wounds
And all of those in between could have beens.
One day, I too, will have no words
Until then though,
It’s not lips but those silent warmth of the stars
Not words but whispers of my name
Not your arms, but your skin that melts into mine
Your breath, at once mine and
not once evermore
Until then, I shall imagine
Glorious dreams to take to another star