Traveling throug a space-tunneled gullet
Into a bloated starry sky
Where to each eye
Her own reality.
Billions of stars looking down from the sky.
Billions of eyes looking up to the sky.
Because she is never stationary
And always moving about like Van Gogh’s winds
Whenever I stretch out my finger into the cold dark night
She stretches in a great cosmic yawn
To caress my arms
Until we melt in our atomic marriage
Of neither star