What’s your explanation?

Are you one of those cosmic crystals that always burn up in the atmosphere,

Or are you an every-day, pretty-faced, busty space-pirate looking for a place to hide?

Are you one of those in-between moments that sneaks into the space that separates actions from words? 

–One of those times when it’s hard to breathe and you feel your heart skip a beat?

I hope you are.

Will you jump up and half-tackle me as you grab me by the sleeve- because you want to show me something amazing you just found?

Will you hold me for something real.

Will you lead me down the banks of some river of stars and nebulae,

Running hot through the cold valley of space,

Will you pose me in place and tell me to stand there and watch, as you run back and summersault across the soft space-grass that grows on the edge of this moist ledge?

Will you touch me and tell me not to speak?

-And then laugh when I tell you to get off because your knee is in my thigh?

Will we dance upon the sturdy glass plane suspended scenically above the galaxies churning below?

You, in nothing but my half-buttoned shirt, and I with a hat tilted jauntily to the side?

 Will I wake up, my shoes, still wet from running with you through the rainy rings of Saturn, jumping into the biggest puddles at any excuse we could not explain, my jeans, dusty  from rolling around with you beside the craters of the moon.

I’ve been dodging comets for far too long, waiting just outside your door.

Will you come on out and give me all this and more?

I hope to see you soon.