In the panes of her window,
reflecting, resting on her elbow,
she wonders if there's meaning
in that circumstantial meeting...
A faltering, so fleeting,
as the caress of their eyes
unveiled in each a soft disguise:
tiny blue planets, blanketed by sky,
graceless in their natural orbit,
revolving her every plane, looking to explore it...
Decelerating in search of her balanceable center,
clumsily gravitating almost against her,
a pair of unsettled, timid satellites
passing both slow, and at the speed of light...
Two beautiful, flickering, twinkling stars,
both six feet close, and light years far...
Her own tiny brown comets in a dusty trail descent,
averting, avoiding the light, reflected and bent.
She, aligned in that momentary eclipse...
a time and a space she chose to dismiss.