here is a journal page for pieces of art that might inspire you the way they inspire me. 
 thank you for taking the time to bask in their beauty.

stars

Seabound StarsShe negates nebulae, calling comets to dive
beneath breathless waves while she begins sectioning stardust
inside her rib's ravines; harpsichord hipbones
plucked for promises with faulty fingertips. Cyclones
rain rage at gaunt galaxies. She postpones
her haunting to tangle my tether, this is the hardest
leaking lungs have labored to allow her to thrive.
---
Salted fingertips pluck at his
seaweed hair, trying to mimic the
sound of the ocean at
sunrise. The boy with
sea-scape eyes, black and dark,
scared but cruel
stands inside the ocean's heart at sunset.
---
Unending folds of sky are stolen; by his sea-soaked hands
and he wrings its last breath. Her most beloved constellation
begins speaking with the flickering of heartbeats. He stops.
---
The last of your kind,
with the solar flare of hope.
I am a black hole.
---
She shields herself beneath his froth,
tamed fingers reach forward to grasp at light,
as if the sun had a body she could hold.
He places her cosmic hands
into the watery clust Stardust.I partook in the poison
of your miracle, for
I believed you a magician:
You pulled chronic weariness
from my marrow—
my faith,
from hazy depths grown
too accustomed.
The eggs spoiled fast:
you pulled from your hat
an act of distrust,
and you left me
with stardust,
with stardust. constellationshe was a star
shone bright in the
moonlight and even
in the sun when the
skyscapes reigned blue.
she was a star but
she was a constellation
only recognised
when the skies
were dark and
she wasnt alone.
she was a star and
she was a constellation
but there were
so many more
stars with
so many less
scars and
she was alone.
despite that
she shone
bright on the far
side of the galaxy because
it was in her nature;
she was a star. Splits lips upon starsMorning
                  splits
open, like orange-flesh
cradled
in a palm.
I tuck consonants between my
          lips/
draw moon-craters in my eyes; I make wishes
                          upon stars
that are too far away to realise and hope
that somehow things will
change. Yet
the sun is still a mere hole
                in the
                                    sky.

dead starshe told her once that her eyes
were burned out galaxies
the light in them
already dead but fading
fading slowly
and that her pupils
were like black holes
liable to pull
you in and never
never let go.
and all she said was
we are all just dead
dead stars in the end. Star-crossedYou woke up on
the wrong side of
a cosmic bed
A pillow of
nebulae,
crushed
under your head
Meteorites
are all the tears
which you have shed
Your ring finger
is Saturn,
yet
remains unwed
Forever lost
in outer space
among a dreamed
starry array
Your light shines bright
lightyears away
but not enough
to seize the day
Star-crossed
and vaccum-cleaned,
sleep-tossed
and solar-weaned
Let your love be
a tesseract-
then I'll wish to
become Titan. starry-eyedand I heard that she's immortal,
because he set her in the stars
and painted out the sadness of her eyes,
colored them with the red and purple
of the nebulae, and shaded in her skirt
in the curves of a million galaxies.
and I heard that her mortal heart stopped beating
while he sat beside her in space, in the air that
always tells him that he is not as big
as the solar system, as the galaxy, as the supercluster.
but he could have been the only person in the universe
when she smiled,
and so he colored in the blackness up above
and gave away the sky to her blue eyes.

 previous features:

^{(8) handpicked: places}

^{(7) handpicked: untitled}

^{(6) handpicked: mom and dad}

^{(5) handpicked: intricately-ordinary}

^{(4) handpicked: sex}

^{(3) handpicked: characters}

^{(2) handpicked: death}

^{(1) handpicked: kiss}

^{for your most pieces of art, write me a note or link me to your own creations.} 

^{i might have been missing out on them and i would appreciate that you share them with me.}