“What are we?” I ask myself sincerely.
You cup my cheek and tell me,
“Oh dear we…
are some cosmic anomalies—colliding without grace.
your galaxy- pink, and mine blue traced.
lavender and violet, shades and hues.
we are comprised of what makes us, me and you.
this ‘ancient as time’ shape that we have taken
shined every light that we had missed and forsaken.
I waited 500 billion years to run into you.
I’d wait for a trillion more.
so what are we, my sweet reverie?
we are the sum of the universes light.
together we shine.
I am yours.
and you are mine.”