When the day comes,

full of red nimbus skies

and black pronounced

against the bodies of - they will say it was

not outside of any plan.

 

Like, too, my foolish way

of thinking it is here, holding hands;

some real and loving thing,

they will say that everything

united is - universe after universe.

 

I could have most if it:

the blue and white eye delights,

enough for some truely desperate tears

but in the distance, a sun is still

turning, full of blood; there.

 

So to you - some lonely lopsided

cloud - the gather of space, and dust

and the strain of looking for;

a dwarf in the shadow of everyone -

their history blocking your light -

 

I promise that when I know,

I will curl up in your bud;

leave all infinite choices to their own,

and love us

like no one else.