At times, reduced to a cloud of stardust, I float aimlessly

Glowing everytime she speaks my name.

She is Polaris. Fixed in my sky, unmoving.

The other Dipper, the Bigger Bear. A pair do we make in the night sky.

To be seen by all throughout time.

Maybe I’ll grow cold and distant like Neptune.

Maybe you’ll end up like volatile and stormy Jupiter.

With an asteroid belt of our discarded feelings between us.

Or maybe you are the Sun, and I am the Earth. You keep me warm. We are just right.

Or maybe I am the Moon and you are the Earth. Teeming with life and joy.

I wax and wane in your reflected light, sometimes only a sliver of my former self.

My sway over you reduces. We seldom align. On those days I’ll reminisce.

Eventually you’ll end up wanting more moons, like Saturn.

You’ll be confused with all the moons, the rings and the debris around you.

Maybe I’m your Pluto, belittled and disregarded. Cast aside in spite of history. Small.

Maybe one day I’ll explode. A supernova of light. You’ll be impressed.

But again none of this matters.

Because you are all that matters. My world spins around you.

As you play dice with my universe.

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