A lifetime ago, I was the touchstone, the canon,
the North Star.
We were bound by conductivity,
visible to the multitudes in orbit.
My name once became
on your lips. We touched too briefly,
fulmination during an impossible time.
But parabolic paths create unfathomable distances,
where bodies become exempt from the celestial pull,
breaking bonds of vested intimacy
to create strange and foreign hurtful worlds.