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Shooting Stars

by A S

We fuck like shooting stars; like the night, we are crescent-moon backs twinkling beads of star-sweat milky way flesh, we are darkness; every stellar scintillation an act of provocation and I’m wishing on your shooting gun that I could be the lucky one shot dead by your moonbeams and buried in your stardust. (For you) it’s just lust; we fuck like falling stars and I wish I knew where you are and you wish you knew how it feels to be here.
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Comments (2)

RDG
<p>I Like the metaphor of the cosmic you weave through the entire poem. I also like the final two lines (bringing to mind twinkle twinkle) and the distance that can be experienced by people that are physically so close.&nbsp;</p>
shiannebell12
omg

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