You remember distant dream, faint though it be –
the one where we twirl across a darkened room
and back into each other’s arms, and we are filled
with a joy that spills over from bountiful hearts
and lights the dark.

Still, morning comes and all you see are exposed
glassy shards of self distorting the memory
of who you really are, of who we really are.
Fix your thoughts upon the dream, my love;
we shall dance as stars again. We shall
dance as stars again.

To birth a dancing star, Nietzsche said, one must
have chaos within. So we’re on the right track,
right? The God he pronounced dead has risen
and rises still within us even now, bringing order
from our chaos,

Calling forth beauty and light from the void within,
stilling troubled hearts, stirring the weary mind’s
imagination, spinning separated souls back
into proper orbit. The vast expanse of sky,
space between us,

Shall collapse in the twinkling of an eye and all
the heavens rejoice as we bask in the glow
of the other’s pulsing white light and a
rainbow-colored warmth emanates
from our union.

Fix your thoughts upon the dream, my love;
we shall dance as stars again. We shall
dance as stars again.