You move like starlight—
distant, impossibly bright,
a language of fire and silence
I can barely stammer in.
Every word you breathe cuts through,
sharp and weightless,
a constellation I can’t connect.
While I orbit old moons,
trapped in tides that refuse to turn,
you’re charting galaxies unseen,
shattering horizons with each step forward.
It’s not just the distance;
it’s the gravity—
yours pulling everything into motion,
mine stuck in the same slow spiral.
Yet still, I chase.
Not to catch you,
but to learn to burn like you do—
fearless, unbound,
a force the universe can’t help but follow.