nothing about us was symmetrical
he was a vibrant black
an opium poppy centre
a vinyl record
the night sky
and every star
i was a crisp white
a blank sheet of paper
a stave with no notes
the clouds in the sky
and a field of daisies
yet when the spring sun melted the winters frost
we melted into iridescent silver
his dark mess of curls
his uneven eyes
my ivory outlook
together we made explosions
he had stardust knitted into his arteries
i had a nebula in my eyes
we were untouchable
i was the pages he could write his verse on
he was the ink that stained my paper skin
we traced the lines into a map
he was the music in every river
and everything was so
oblique