Heaven and Earth

Newborn moonlight,
one point three seconds old,
spills onto the thin sheet
that covers us.
Something pulls back as
the room divides
in a silver edged  black hole,
those spaces unobservable,
hiding  things
that lurk in the dark.

Round trip takes three seconds
assuming anything makes it back.
I peer into your eyes,
loving and speckled with gold,
fully knowing that two
are looking back.
It sits in the dark,
awaiting my attention.
It cannot move you see.
It is stuck in that position

unless invited.
I have no desire to go back,
and I feel we shall never return
to those cold wastes
that once held our dreams.
Its a small step,
finding myself with you.
But it makes all the difference
science and reason and passion,
directed at fertile grounds.

It tries again to steal my breath away,
burning with reflected fire
the depths of its form
hiding something terrible.
I know better,
and I lose myself
in something worth while,
The moon and that thing
can burn all they want.
In the end, I only ignite with you.