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They'll need rockets to reach us, the way you perch your love upon that hearth (your heart above the earth) for it is far beyond their reach. Your enamoured soul — enormous, and bright as the sun — is chased by my lunatic desire and although we are worlds (yet only words) apart, your gravity feeds my dementia. And from collapsed dimensions we are brought closer together, as the events (the evidence of the effects of the cosmic forces between us) cast a shadow upon (our morals) the mortals. And to them it appears the pair of us fit perfectly together like we were made to go together. I want to hide you from them until only your halo is visible, but keep chasing you, never touching, in a planetary syncopation lasting aeons. |