I miss feeling natural disasters whenever you’re around. The ground trembling at the sight of you, walking with much grace, it seems like you’re dancing. The tide would rise whenever you sing, hitting every note with minimal effort. The stars fall from the sky when I look into your eyes, seeing more than what others can see.

I long for the chance; get to hold your hand. The feeling of the rought pavement scraping through the smooth cotton shirt you wear. Wildfires appear as you lock me into your embrace, rushing us to break apart or the world will deduce to ash. Tornadoes hit that exact spot where we stand whenever you whisper - like the world never agrees to us.

But when we are together, I feel like we’re miles apart. The time is never right, I’m hours away and wide awake, while you’re there still in slumber as the sun is yet to rise. My compass heads east, telling me the right direction, opposite from you. Seven billion people, two of us trying to build a bullet train across continents.

The world will concede, in due time.