These four corners are absent
Of your shadowed beauty
And dark reflected splendor.

I could lie awake tonight
Staring at the ceiling
Wondering endlessly
How it would feel in your head
To know the level at which
I miss you right this instant.

On my skyward dream journey
You are ashen islands
That scatter out before me
Like Alpherg and Al Rischa,
Or Sharatan and Hamal.

You are the magnificent torrent
Of light among the lesser stars
Who could never match the shivers
Your fingers sent across my skin.

Such a role does not come easy,
Nor does the pained realization
In your deep parting glance.

When our incompatibility
Roars violent at center stage,
Both my eyes stream tears
Which sting like thorn pricks
And dance upon the thoughts
That keep me missing you tonight.