Some time ago, I went to the moon, found a sea to sit by and went fishing in the tranquil blue, cast off into the solar rays, basking in the stellar waves, not knowing I was waiting for you.
Did you come from the Pleiades— which star went dark when you fell? Who took the time to carve each limb from the sky, Dusted stars from M35 in your eyes, Chiseled your face from a comet flying by, And set sunbeams inside of your smile?
While fishing I didn’t catch Hydra or Cetus, so I sat softly on the dunes, closed my eyes and laid in the moondust, Antares and Saturn stood silently, slowly I felt your warmth draw near me, and you closed any distance between us.