you (but in cursive)

A work of art is what you are

Galileo would look at you and say "you're a star"

 

I see your body and see the lines

and see your curves and remember the times

that we would sit together with a glass of wine ...

 

I've never been one to whine

but I do hate that you're not mine

 

And when I say "mine", please do not think

That I want ownership of you or who you are...

 

Because when have you ever seen someone control a star,

a piece of light that is so far...

 

So maybe you are part of the cosmos,

a true intergalactic life form,

my entire heart, soul, and lover, in human form

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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