The feel of fate upon my shoulder. Gazes down as I look up.
The stars seem to know, and in my muse of them, my thoughts of her as well.
That peer into inky curtain, past faded moon, and the pale twinkle in pin points of light and their distance. I can only wonder why I am so lucky.
Just to have her. Just to be with her.
In these moments that grab no despair, just astonishment of all these beautiful moments we’ve shared. Like tiny dewdrops that seem to disappear as the sun grows high, but I do know in the morrow they will return.
Inasmuch as her smile. Inasmuch as her touch. Both light this dismal sky far brighter than the frosted orb above me.
It is thus I wait for her now. Here. Under what hours of night may come.