You, a glittering trail of star-stuff wrapped
around a solid core, on a long orbit,
traversing lonesome outer reaches,
signal grown dim. The magnetic draw
dissipates. I forget to look for you –
and there you are, shining, sparking.
Every other mote keeping you company
gathers close, captured. You fall,
or I do, down the gravity well, tumbling
down to a sweet landing laced with tears;
we pause, breathe in the little time allowed.
The thudding of your heart beneath my hand,
the pulse of the universe writ small. Then off
you go again. Soon enough, this tender ache
will subside; we won’t even notice
the thin tether that stretches as far
as it needs to go, that leads you back again.