Space


When I try to imagine a space where you would feel comfortable enough to open up to me, I imagine my bed. And even though your faced away from me damn I’m just happy that you’re there.

You see from my bed I can see space, and that’s how I know your galaxies away from me. But if you just let me skim through your milky ways, I promise I’ll find life on you.

Because while I’m scared of men who are like shooting stars, you’re scared of meteor showers showering you into a rocky instability, but here’s the thing, I just want to explore you, to be an astronaut from the confines of my bed, where I’ll experiment by wrapping my arms around you and just resting my head.

You are the sun to me; your lips drip with rays of light creating a sunshine in a moonlit bed. You bring a light to me, so I let my hands play rover, gliding over the surface of your skin. I promise I’ll patch all your craters within. So in this is space be alien with me, Extra terrestrial and out of this world, and in return I’ll always be your astronaut girl.