The path is long
And overgrown, so
Heaven knows I'll walk alone.

No matter, though:
The moon's my guide,
Her fingers silver, laced with mine.

"So where to next?"
I stop to ask.
"All that you wish shall come to pass,"

She whispers mute
With lips of comets'
Tracery. I'm struck, astonished.

Feet aflame
And eyes the same,
I trap the wind and speak her name...

"My precious, gorgeous
"Tireless Guide,
"I'll run until you're by my side!"

I take a step,
Then run, then fly
The overgrowth left far behind.