Tonight, your
hands
are singing the
piano,

and the fading
stars of
blue float
in the night

and my silly
heart
resists falling
like a feather-
gravity,
    gravity,
          g
          r
          a
         v
        i
     t
y

who are you in
the white light
of fluorescent bulbs and
reverie
that manages to
pull me into orbit?

You can see that
I'm a meteor who
cannot find
her ground-

So in my hectic
flight,
my chaotic dance
within the
black,
I'm going to
trace patterns
on your
music-hands
piano-hands
your planetary
solar hands
and try to be
your
satellite