Thinking of rivers and splinters of light on August nights. And how they do not wait;
if I could wish them to stay. And how I miss them long before they’re gone.
And how I know they’ll be gone before forever.
Making the blue light their own. Dragging down stars; sunrises and sets from other
worlds, over other rivers. Waves of one kind running with another
and my awkward frequency chasing them both,
finding harmony in a cast and connection in a take.
Stay in one place, when the stars hit your eyes.
All I needed is you.
And at dawn I’ll still be there.