Comets

Even in your loneliest nights,
When the silence screeches in your ears,
The sky can deliver you love,
In the form of a cerulean comet,

An evanescent light in the sky,
Streaking across your eyes like a pleasing form,
The shape of a paramour,
Painted in azure trails,

This falling star,
It burns white-hot,
Like the throes of frenetic passion,
It conjures images of trysts and new families,

But comets are only brief interlopers,
And if you don’t grab it,
Pluck it from the universe,
It’ll pass by at light speed,

And proceed to the orbit of another.