Stop me if you have heard this one before.
"Boy meets girl."

Stop. Erase.

"Boy meets girl in a trivial pursuit."

Stop. Erase.

No, there is no meeting at all.
Boy never meets girl, as meeting implies brevity.
A meeting is held in a conference room.
A meeting is not felt to the very core.
A meeting is no flower on the brink of bloom.

The reality is, the world ceases to spin on its axis.
The sun flares at the sight of her.
The moon implodes at the sound of her.
Mars and Venus collide at the touch of her.
All while constellations dance like moths,
Hovering far too close to a flame.

There is no pulse, only rhythm.
There is no break, only bend.
There is no rescue, only flailing.
There is no beginning, only end.

Now boy is standing at the center of a great divide.
And girl disappears, abruptly as the tide.

Stop me if you have...

Stop.  Erase.