Sand and Ice

You throw rocks at the moon
as the middle of our mattress caves in
between us a canyon

too deep to cross.

Your face looks different in the dark
kinder, softer.
From far away,
it’s breathtaking.

I reach my arm into the black
around us
you shiver like space, yearning
to be discovered

and pull me into your center
where my warmth will refuse
to melt with you.

The line between us is made of ice
that thrives in the desert;
it stands
parallel to the sky
beautiful distances

between the two.

This is only within the first three revisions so it's still a young poem. I have a thing for the celestial conceit as well as the desert conceit. It's a phase, I suppose. :)