The sea could be our blanket
(bodies within bodies),
and through our bubble-gum talk,
the waves could save us:
progressively, then suddenly,
like the sun dipping it’s face
into the ocean, to quench the thirst
from the fire’s desire to
burn the world down.
However, our Nature is clever,
and by that, we spin, making Earth
a ballerina approaching consistency,
even in its compassion.
We rely on a satellite, whose
struggle to pull us in, only results
in a counter-intuitive way of
lifting us, then dropping us
gently, from the weak arms of
our said celestial moon.
Space is just a word
stuck between us.
Distance goes extinct
over time, and we’ve lived
an eternity - life after life -
your body, my body,
yet we fail to touch.
Let’s forget the languages
we know. Take apart our
tongues, and throw them
aside, because we are earthbound,
because today is Wednesday,
because my name is,
and because your name, isnt.
