As gravity grows in strength, and bends
the space that hems and holds his heart,
the man beaks down and says 'I shall
be prisoner to this curve, this arc;
forever hold me nearing you,
and falling in your sway, your pull.
Each day: I fall a million miles. Some force
still keeps me far from you, and going through a phase.
Always new, to waxing crescent, never wanes, and never
reaching full. Still
nights like these, come out and read
by light of me, which came from you.