The sky takes its rest,
Bright but elderly
What we are is still new enough
We keep abreast of the smoothness in each other,
at behest of your more rational spirit,
I aspire to glide through days,
But sometimes I fixate on details,
Keen and intense like the sun in memories,
I drown at times in the now
Limbs possessed by the sweet whatever,
Your passage is smooth,
A vision of composure wherever you go.