Constellations of beauty leave you starry-eyed.
Glowing eyes gravitate you into a starry sky.
A voice, hushed as the airy echo of dusk.
Warm. Angelic. A saving relic.
A twinkling smile stops crowds.
A streak of giggles,
moonlit peaks,
reflecting off the shining clouds.
With me as your cosmic guide,
moments feel like a serendipitous voyage.
Free of spoilage.
No nervous chatter.
We share stories. Sweet nothings.
Shimmery smiles.
They turn into stardust files,
in your memory bank of our eclipse.
In my dusk, time doesn't pass,
it enters the fourth dimension.
Hours move at light speed.
Days become eclipses.
Weeks, celestial spans.
The stars don’t align
with fast thrills or staged lust.
Luminosity can only originate
from a simple clump of dust.
So let’s take our time.
Stellar evolution. Never rushed.