(Pow, right in the feels. And using space, too.)
English: Moon (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
A saturation of forces holds us,
pirouetting through the possibility of darkness
probing the field in yearning steps.
Many partners share the floor,
but in restraint, the tidal pull of our
reservations tickle together
timeless revolutions, sun-bleached
for the final, shaking breath when time
skips, us tipping into the hooded sky.
Shooting stars for luck
Tiny fire braille heralds truth
Yet always: falling.
Image care of Photobucket.
Nothing looms as nothing,
Ever blazing in the all-celestial plain
These firewrought havens stretched
Unbidden and unknown
Timeless destiny manifest
Such limitless bounty
Bears more than all the stars
In heaven’s listless choir—
No man might yet know life
That could ever see its end.
These torches light the path
Unto technological
Ascension.
We are drifting
You and I
I can see it in your eye
This sifting
Chasm lengthens
And the shadowed fens
Are growing.
That smile you once held for me
My smile
Is now a vacant stare
We look to one another
But there’s nothing there
Just silence
In the space
That once beheld our laughter.
Older, wiser
Colder
The child slithers from us
And so do we
These shadows lengthen
As we pull apart.
Still we look
Captive to memory
Unable to let go
But unable to remain
We are gripped and we are broken
And I am decaying in orbit
Around the very stars
That made my
Universe.
The Waking Den 