I swear I can see the stars from where we are.

I watch them reflected in your eyes,

Fractal patterns that shift and shimmer,

And I am lost,

With no star chart to guide me home,

Save for the infinite expanse of your raven-black center,

Into which I have so willingly flung myself;

Your body is not a temple, nor my mind a cathedral;

Yet we pray together,

And my lips, your lips, our lips,

They form the opening fifth of a long-lost hymn,

Guiding me back from that shadowland,

Welcoming me home from the infinitude of stars in your eyes,

And I am found.