Look at the moon, she said.
Look at the moon, look at the moon.
The way it pastes itself onto that blanket of black
And stares with the whites of its eyes.

One big eye, bulging above,
Scrutinizing our species,
Asking me questions about Love
And other things I claim to understand.

Leave me alone, won't you?
Oh big, bulging moon of persistent
gazing insolence.

Does it speak?
Does it say: Look at the human,
Look at the tiny, tiny human.
Why does it stare at me
with those speculating specks of eyes?

I am dust, you are dust.
We are all dust, floating together.
Look at the moon or look at the human,
It is all the same.

There's a craving in our skin,
a rhythm in our hearts
Our eyes flash, excitement sparks

when they meet
we are forced to smile

and I've felt this way for while.
First caught sight of you,
noticed how your eyes were blue,
your skin like milk, cool on the breeze,
your voice soft in the wind

I can't look away

Isn't this perfect, paradise?
Or merely a desire,
passing, blind, fading, physical,
Quick to melt with the sun
When the winter of our love
comes around?

Who are we
If we change
according to the whether
of which, who, what, and where
Whether somebody else is there
I live and I be, according to the we
According to an us,
not a me
Do we possess individuality?
When adaptation is our constant falsity?
Although we each see through our own narrow eyes
It's a singular perspective
surrounded by lies
The world is one,
our hearts are one
It's true
This must be
So who am I?
Who are you?
Who is
humanity?