Tawn

I write to you with beams of light.
And they have become a ritual.
I've learned to crave each glimpse of you
Between the accreting stars.

When shimmer swindlers beckoned for the sun you gave me,
I gave myself to them instead.
You had always given me enough and more.

Now empty-handed, my fists are full of the medium we swim within.

I beg the heavens for something improved but I find less at every turn.

I write to you with beams of light.
And now, from this other side, 

I can see what you have seen. 

I only wish you were here to tell me about it.