this is for you.

it's funny,

i'm speaking as if i'm actually addressing you,

as if these words are going to reach you, when

in reality

i'm too much of a coward

to even hit send on a text that says "i miss you"

let alone look into those beautiful eyes and tell you

that

to me,

you are the moon

that which i look to from my

humble place on earthly ground,

and cannot fathom reaching.

to me, the stars glisten

against your rose-colored fingertips,

and for a moment i forget

that stars are hot balls of gas

slowly dying out

and believe that they are accessories

specially made

to give you an ethereal glow.

to me,

you are everything, everywhere, and i am overwhelmed

by your omnipotence,

for i am so

insignificant

in comparison.

how ironic it is; i used to scorn people that let love make them stupid, and now i am one of them,

pathetically and

irrevocably

enslaved to yours.

you have my heart now, darling,

and all i ask is for you to handle it with care,

cup it gently in those hands which contain galaxies.

but, again, i am a coward, and i will not say any of these things to you, so i

will just hope

desperately

that you understand what i try to convey

through inane hand gestures

and vague text messages, for i am

hopeless

and foolish,

and could never find a way to tell you

that you,

you are the moon.