A good Friday gift

As I see it, earth’s flinging all her love on you: her colour, shape and movements set

In the flowing breeze, that she cannot but speak in a breeze passing by, she speaks

Of you. Her humans, in cubed drugs and knowledge, tho none has as much guile as you! 

Take my heart, then, thru streets, ‘tween earth and people, to find you, to search for you,

In space your constellation is forming, sets off a shower of stars,

Falling hearts, domme morrigan, with your eyes, every atom, becoming you