Honey, the only star I see is you

Sometimes, I think I'm over you.
I look at your pictures,
which is just a trilogy waiting to be written, if I'm being honest.

And I felt nothing.

Your eyes, which once look like stars,
are just orbs devoid of light;
those curls on your head
who wrapped themselves like vines around my heart,
now stood still;
your smile, a ray of beacon,
is just a set of pearls that were once under the sea,
and I tell myself:
"Maybe this is it.
The final chapter.
The final act."

But then I pressed play,
and I got to see you in motion;
a collection of moving polaroids
under the rainbow,
from the crystal clear kaleidoscope;
and, just like that,
I saw light once more.

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