I always felt like loving you, quietly, softly,

Breathing sonnets into your ears and spending hours trying to understand whether galaxies had their own kind of music, quiet and unheard amongst humans
But deafening and roaring amongst themselves.

I wonder what the galaxies sing about.
About their own wondrous beauty? Like a technicolor dream or maybe of the terrifying secrets that swirl within the fatal gasses and debris, that could kill human race with one hit.

I wonder what the stars whisper about amongst themselves, twinkling away gently.
Do they talk about us?
About how they are watching over us?
Or perhaps about the star crossed lovers, going through a rough patch.

Or maybe the stars that decided to align for the star crossed lovers.

Do they wonder about us like we wonder about them?

I wonder what the black holes, swirling mysteriously in our own galaxy whisper about.
They don’t actually. They are silent.
Perhaps they are the place where every scream goes to die, where every dream goes to break, where every heart goes to be broken,

And you know that saying about how silence is the loudest scream.

Is it safe to say all my thoughts, the ones I’ve hidden deep into the folds of my mind, are in a black hole somewhere, safely hidden from any prying human eyes, as if to protect me from mind readers?

What do the planets talk about?

Do they even talk to each other or are they like sour neighbors after an unfortunate July 4th incident?

I wonder if loving you is like loving the entire universe,

Every inch, every fold, each and every single fragment,
Every star, every planet, every particle of stardust that ever existed and is yet to exist

And the moment I started to question it was the moment I realized that I did.

And I hoped with all my heart that you did too.