Galaxies should intertwine...without the interim
Or space that interferes
With nearness to the core
Of things...of personal galaxies.
We have our own galaxies, hoard them like
Scaley dragons
Hoarding gold.
I choose lamb chops
You choose ground beef
We do not entertwine.
There is nothing more than space that keeps time
And places so far apart.
We do not entertwine.
Could we ever drink beer in faraway galaxies?
I think so...
I think not...for I do not think for you. Yet, we think.
Both together...galaxies apart. Both without
Knowledge of the other...but, we think.
Call this galaxy your own. It is there.
For your liking or not.
I think...
And I smile at you across Time.
Listen very, very quietly and carefully.
Such answers are never shouted.
Listen.
Quietly.
Give me Time.
I will give you...Galaxies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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