idk

I don't know if it's the abyss within her gaze,

if it's the eclipse within her lips, the grace underneath her face,

if it's her handful hint of heartbreak-induced enmity,

or the thousand serene supernovas each time the stars point to the sunset of her sanity.

I don't know if it's the way she smiles,

if it's the way she shines, the way she smells, 

the way she sulks, the way she plays coy and sighs and stumbles upon sarcasm and sassiness —

before cancelling everything with a slightly shy look that could tear down a whole galaxy of stars.

I don't know if it's another cruel game of fate,

Or whether a happy ending will possibly be made,

Or whether tomorrow awaits with nothing but blades and knives.

But tonight I know. Tonight, I'm the luckiest man alive.

Dec 25, 2022

Around 10.30 PM

For Tish.

Art: "The Lovers" by Rene Magritte, taken from Book My Painting.