-Tender glittering stars, no I meant your eyes-
Not a man of many words, he relied instead on his bending.
He found that he could express himself with every blast of fire, the flames licking his fingertips in the way a lover would.
His favorite way to relieve his pent up emotions was to simply hold them in his hand- the small fire in his palm depended on his warmth to keep alight, and he needed the feel of something to hold on to-
Yet, when he met the moon,
He had no idea that the gliding of water is just as sweet as the flickering of flame,
That the many blues of the ocean could be enclosed in two orbs of gorgeousness,
Or that he could find redemption in the opposing push and pull of the waves.
He had no idea that loving her would cause the axis of his existence to shift, mold, and transform into something he could not even fathom until he
met her,
Touched her,
Loved her,
Until he became a representation of their love, he was not a man of many words. Now, he is the inspiration for an entire nation, he is the light guiding them all.
Just like she did through his darkness.
So now, every day, he rises-
And right before he falls,
She is always right there to catch him.