light ages as it arcs through the air,

changing its face on its way to me.

i dont mind meeting them as they are,

it’s the only way it can be.

the moon isnt where its supposed to be,

but thats because im a human.

there’s no need to move mountains;

when you’re the one who put them there.

countless spheres of different scales,

i find stability in my gyroscope.

rings that dance and disorient,

a glimmer of gold in my eyes,

i know my eyes can never tell me their true age or face. i love them anyways.