That Small Distance Gaping

It’s not that far, really,
when you consider
the arm’s reach
of Andromeda
or the stride
of Cassiopeia.

But that distance
between you there
and me here
confounds me
confuses me
in its elasticity

in its plasticity
it grows and shrinks
with the mood
of the moon
and the shades
of your heart

rolling up sunny
pulling down flinty
and all laid just so
at the feet of that
lead based busy god
pretending at time.

I wish I could
escape the shell
of time and dance
across galaxies
in a twinkle
and a dash

and swing
all day
with you
dear friend
all day
with you

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