you say you are lonely and should have called. i am in love and should have come. what makes us dwell in inaction when the hour is at hand. is it fear of breaking something so fragile by giving it a name. we hold magic in the palm of our hand, but it’s the mystery that makes it magic. dissecting it will let us know the parts, but might murder the whole. i want you whole, not in parts. we are already connected by cosmic thread that will pull us close if that’s what it’s there to do. no need to ask when, even though i claw at an answer. no need to ask why, even though i interrogate myself daily for a reason. this is where i live. i am warm and fed. you are light bouncing off the stars, shining on me when the clouds allow.