Behind the clouds, the sky remembers
every name we whispered in the dark;
I still wear your thunder in my chest,
a soft storm drumming through the quiet.
When the moon forgets to rise,
I light the night with every promise
we never spoke—let them burn silver,
let them guide you like stray stars
finding the seam in the horizon.
Follow that trembling line;
I’ll be the break where blue begins,
the first breath after the downpour,
singing you home in hush and shimmer.