You are my universe

When I'm eighty years old 

I don't want to look back 

and wish I had told you 

how I look at you and see 

a galaxy of potential unseen.

You are another galaxy on its own.

You are not just the gas and dust 

that forms stars just to let them 

run along the Milky Way, 

you are everything. 

You are the dust, 

the gas, 

the darkest dark,

the white and all that magic. 

You are the sky 

and every star, 

the ones that shine brightest, 

and the ones that aren't shining yet. 

You are every constellation I love. 

Your skin contains galaxies 

and your eyes are stars.

You make me believe 

in a universe kind of god, 

beautiful and lovely 

and made up of dancing galaxies, 

because you are pure stardust 

the way you shine.

All I ask you is to keep 

the stars within you alive, 

to let the galaxies expand.

— m.f. // You are my universe