Neverwhere.

— so it seems your heart is the color of the sky.
you're the only one who can make me stand in the shape of my body.

when i hear your tender whisper i find i am atop mountains.

the shivers in my shoulders tend to hold me tightly. i try to make them feel like they are
an embrace but they in fact grip too hard, i will say it,

yet when i look, the air is crystal and the end is burning brightly for me.

you make the end burn brightly for me.

have i mentioned the way your eyes murmur and your words see?
you are gentle, and you don't have to be, — you know i am only a shred of floating ash?

you let my soul roam, take up its space,
so i will say it,
that it makes a sound, which you know, you hear it, — its sound is a contemplative swelling and ebbing symphony, mostly trumpets and deep strings, it drifts and scales and weaves and decides and abandons and retreats and emerges and carries and climbs and searches and smiles and sighs,

you smile and sigh at its sound.

as i stretch out an outstretched arm
i find that already i have reached too far, for here you are, and here, and neverwhere.

have i mentioned the steady footprint of your thoughts?
measured and arranged.

like a bouquet for me.

— the end burns brightly and the air evaporates. i am struggling to breathe but it was always meant to be this way, you give me each breath, a precious gift you like to unwrap, stop struggling love. each day the air gets thinner and each day we get closer to one another's faces, i can't wait for you to see mine, i can barely stand to wait. let the air stream down your throat and remember that as the end burns more brightly, the air must dissipate, hold tight, i am yours until the last split second of time.