all these poets
longing for and recording thus
that they might be the moon,
the stars,
the sun
to gain consistency, immortality
to see you

i would never
give up mortality
to be as they
though the thought sounds capturing
thousands of miles away
the stars shimmering
in their everlasting presence

and o, if they were watching
what envy might entice their burning brighter
for heavenly bodies have no place
in your arms
and in consistency
they would never know
the joy of arrival
the pain of departure

and in consistency so far away these poets live outside the reality of what they are missing

you

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