Two stars

A poem about love that doesn't last

Two stars fall,
not to collide,
but to bend
the space between them.
A touch sparks,
ignites a heat
that brightens
the night sky.

They burn,
skin to flame,
suspended
in a space
they cannot cross,
each wave
a pull
that leaves them
pulsating.

Nothing remains
but a delicate glow
of light,
fading
into the dark
like the last wisp
of their existence,
too intense
to last.