My life orbits you, helpless in
its predetermined course, bound
by your intangible grip: tantalisingly
in sight, yet permanently beyond
reach, destined neither to touch
nor take leave.
Is your apparently anchored nature
merely relative? Do you also circle some
greater being, too far, too vast for me
Moon to Earth and Earth to Sun:
in whose grip is the Universe held?
At whose face will it ceaselessly gaze,
yet never caress?