To Not Lose Myself

You can break out of me time strips, to throw me to the sky, to be immortal in your hands, to not lose myself, to be a constellation, and always looking myself young with each sunset when we are love. To let gods play for me with harps of heaven, and for their hands to caress all that is missing, to gather the groan dissolution in a bunch of dew when you go, to can make destiny rain and the tears of heaven fall over all that is love. Raining… raining over arid land, to smell a wet soul … at sunrise or to the sunset. I might fly as high in love with you in ether. Nobody is sad … we have ourselves.