I've never cared for people who say they can't live without you
or for anyone who has presumed to climb a mountain,
or swim an ocean to be with me.
I'm bored of stars being compared to gems and
bored of trying to see those gems in your eyes.
If the sun shines only for you, I'd gladly be nocturnal.
If I am everything you will ever want and
everything you will ever need,
could this be anything but horribly overbearing?
If you really were an angel,
cloaked in dreams and borne by promise,
I'd want only the visceral part of you.
Don't say you will always be there for me;
because always is a long time and
I don't admire the undiscerning.
I'm tired of metaphors of stones worn by the sea.
Maybe the stones aspire to sand,
the way all things tend towards lessening.