From Mars.

falling from a shooting star,
where are you from,
that you should be
so like myself?

the spark of lighting
hiding in your eyes
and in the sky...
I guess I'm paraphrasing.

where are you from,
that your fingers are like fire,
but ice fills my bones
at your touch.

I've lost my reason
to deny myself
the feeling that you bring.

we are the same,
are we the same?

- - -

I wrote this while listening to the song From Mars, by Gojira. Though the poem and the song have absolutely nothing in common. LEGIT.