Intervals of Stars

We danced in intervals among the stars.
We formed constellations, waltzing across the heavens.
When we missed a step, a new star appeared for us to pavane through.
And, when the sky turned bright again, we each went back to whence we came.

And that was all we needed.

We twirled through comets, narrowly missing.
And would just laugh over our youth.
We paused for a moment when a star burst with light.
And, when the star fell, we each had a moment of quiet.

And that was all we watched.

We separated every morning, brushing stray stars from our shoes.
We would smile and wait for the next sunset.
And, when the stars started to come, we joined again in a celestial dance.

And that was all we did.

We wandered through caverns, across valleys, to find a place.
We would lie in the tall grass, pointing out the starprints that her heels left in the navy canvas.
And, when she fell asleep, I would brush her hair behind her ear so she could breathe easier.

And that was all of our secrets we shared.

We once smiled.
We once were together.

And that was all that mattered.

We would cross the galaxies, feeling the different music from each.
I would lift her, watching her dress flow across the worlds in a rush of velvet.

And that was all we had.

We wouldn’t care about anything.

And that was all that we wanted.

We wished for forever.

And that was all.

But wishing is never enough.