Endless expanse,
stunning blue.
I am nothing,
next to you.
Frameless,
blameless.
Callously true,
asking brashly,
for what is due.
Receding, reclaiming,
recede and reclaim.
Your cyclical melody,
my personal tune.
If there was a way,
I could sing back to you.
In a language that we
both could use.
Then every day,
I’d sit.
Before an audience of dune,
to be your own special choir,
and sing our circle tunes.
