In appearance close to touch,
Constant motion, orbiting itself,
How can a star revolve around another,
Too distant to discover, except itself?
In appearance close to touch,
Distance silencing the possibility of connectivity.
An opportunity to let light in when
all wish to shine brighter than the next,
Not notice illumination facing us,
Let alone solar systems' invitation to sit a while,
Pretend not to notice.
Merely comets brave enough to break the mould,
flaring bright flashes of light in its
courageous journey.
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