The sixth night

Had I been the one to decide
the anatomy of being,
I would have created us with eyes pointed upwards,
towards the skies,
so that we would never again be reminded where we're going.
It would be more difficult to see you, and find you,
my love,
but, oh,
when we would at last accidentally bump into each other,
our bodies full of wounds from all the other crashes with people around us,
then,
then I would turn my neck towards you,
tilt my eyes, full of blue skies,
and stars, and comets,
and see the depths of your waters.