napowrimo: a forlorn love story (day five)

cruelest fate – we dance our waltz,
alternating the lead and the other,
one step behind. we've grown
accustom to this; passionate words
born of whimsy loses steam after
its journey. we’ll never know if it
was the destination or if the words
never burned hot enough.

i'm reminded of our story,
every ending we inevitably
rewrite, hoping one day it’ll
end with us in sync.
hand in hand, twirling
under a flurry of stars;

we cannot survive unless
we live in the stars.

visual: https://imgur.com/a9jJ4b7