Come with me and dance in space
Reach out and touch the constellations
They paint the sky like
David Bowie’s zig-zag face
The solar winds rip through
The fabric of our clothes
We are pirates
New Romantics
Kissing
Turning
Tumbling
Against the void, burning
We fall though time,
Made of stars
Your pupils wide
A black hole forms within your eyes
I’m stronger now
My veins alive
With the moving reds and purples of the night
And we explode, and wine cascades
Down our throats like velvet snakes
You rise above me, silhouette
Hair tumbling like Medusa
A visualisation of an echo
A pop art painting
You, repeating.
The floor dissolves and we fall through
An orchestra rises up to swallow us
Ripples of electric pink and blue
We loop around each other
A Mobius strip of call and response
Melting waves of sound
Fading to a single point
After-image dancing and receding
And the rising, gentle shuffle
Of silence
Above us in the sky
The wolf star
Burning bright
This would make a great song.
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