each, a significance. The gems are missing,
I find them stuck in the iris of your eyes.
Glittering there, I try to take them and realize that
the extraction dulls them. The breaking
of a tiny thing, it stings your fingertips as it snaps
(the most romantic bit of pain).
I look for you when I sleep; letting it fully settle
upon me, soaking
in the denseness of you. Violin choirs when I hear
you breathing, like we're both ascending into