Unearthly

Your favourite shades are repainted against the skies again, my dear.
It’s illusory, really. Then again, space has always been your thing.
Isn’t it intriguing how the universe, like a master painter, always seems to arrange itself in hues that mirror our dreamy lifestyle?
Did you notice that even the sun is unbelievably giddy whenever we are together?
Don’t you think that’s beautiful?
Our connection, so exquisitely unique, seems to hold the world in its orbit.
It’s as if the universe, in awe of our love,
reshapes itself to fit into the enchanting storybook that is you and me.
Perhaps that’s why everyone gazes from afar; they’re captivated by the sheer intensity of our affection.
Too immersed in jealousy to even think about joining us on these swings.
Our world, though filled with wonders, feels confined.
My heart aches to share with you the uncharted beauty of another realm.
I long for you to witness the breathtaking skyline from every possible angle, just like before.
You’d enjoy that. You always were a…
No.
You are an unreal spirit, and you always will be. I’ll make sure of that.
I promise.
Because I can keep a promise, too.
You know, everyone thinks I’m crazy.
I know they whisper about me.
They think it’s fictitious, the art of make-believe, but you wouldn’t say that.
You would pretend, too, if the roles were reversed, right?
If I were the artist shading the sky with purples and blues,
you would stay and watch my hallucinatory masterpiece as it forms.
You would.
Just like you said, you’ll get back to me.
Whether in mythical or poetic presence,
you wouldn’t make me write the rest of our book on my own.
So, even though everyone else sees it as deranged, you are here beside me,
your pale legs dangling from the swing, your laugh shooting between the stars because you promised me you wouldn’t leave.
Your hair is still gently swaying to the rhythms of our peace,
eyes watching mine with that half grin that hasn’t faded because you promised it wouldn’t.
And you didn’t; you just became unearthly, right?