The Blur Of Our Molecular Symmetry As Seen From Far, Far Above

As midnight draws near,
I sense the ghostly blue moonlight
glowering at me from high, high above.  

I am a monster disentombed,
stumbling across the jagged angry landscape,
heartbeats jitterbugging in primitive disarray.  

Like love letters tossed into the fireplace,
our words melt into black carbon as if they never were.  

Yet we press onward,
the unfolding arms of gravity's luxurious caress,
blanketing the haunting horizon of what we once were,
and what we shall always be.