(no subject)
I feel there's something lacking
in these attempts at connection
in these isolated thoughts
it's the feeling
that I get on nights when the sky is decorated
-breathtakingly precise-
and the stars seem to be directions
I never have the nerve to ask for
it's between the late hours and long talks
the intangible that almost presents itself
in a shape perfectly fit
for my arms to wrap around
for my words to pin down
while beating the air with frenzied movements
bewildering to the untrained eye
making (almost) perfect
sense to me
this is! excitement
this is! frustration
this is! loneliness
presenting themselves in palpitations
and
sleepless nights
but
I hold no grudge against moonlight
it's the daytime that nearly does me in