I’m trapped in
Space.
Just left of where the iris fades
And the liquorice wheel begins to
Unfurl,
That’s where you’ll find me,
Spinning,
Spiralling,
Doing somersaults through the night
Sky.
But I’m no shooting star,
Steering the painter’s brush,
Think more white dwarf,
Ho-hum and hung out to
Dry,
While that girl,
She’s the brightest star in an
Asterism, sweet cataplasm,
Sitting pretty at the end of the
Rainbow road,
Red, Orange, Yellow,
Green, Blue,
You.
The girl with the glitter ball
Cheekbones,
And eyes bigger and bluer than
Neptune!
Oh! How she disco-dances across the
Sequinned sea,
So far away, she won’t see me,
But I can
Her.
Yes! Through my
Automatic, achromatic, haemorrhagic lens,
I’ll zoom in on her,
Such celestial splendour,
She’s like quartz,
Winking at me,
Turning my eyes to
Pulp.
The interstellar iceberg,
Let us play hopscotch across the
Planets,
And I’ll close my eyes and count to
Ten,
And pray she’ll be in my
Sights once again.
Mon Dieu!
But how blinding her
Beauty be,
She’s burning magnesium
Against an empty TV screen,
The star of a show which ended
Weeks ago.
But still she flickers,
With her silver skirt and tangelo toes,
How I’d love to be the
Notches on her asteroid belt,
And squeeze her tight,
Until I find my way home.
But instead I stand still,
Stuck, ankle-deep in the treacle,
Deep trouble, deep confusion,
These boots weren’t made for
Moonwalking girl,
Nor was this heart ready for the
Catalepsy.
And so she strays towards the darkness,
Further and further and
Further,
Until my outstretched arm becomes a
Dot amongst the
Stars.
But while she may be light-years away,
I’ll still love her, needless to say.