Half-waking, half-sleeping, half tomorrow;
Apollo’s beams dance on half a face,
I mourn the morning, as only borrowed,
The day shines but partially on our embrace.

Ignoring that honest solar trail,
From time and space I remove my heart;
Too inconstant and too apt to fail,
Too rapturous upon each bright new start.

Yet I know, of course, that the sun will rise,
And with each new dawn our parting advances,
Never again to see the sun in your eyes,
I hope to remember fleeting glances.

Ephemeral spheres of moments together
Burst like stars and then are gone forever.