not by the moon

It is not by the moon that we first met
and it is not by the moon
that I measure our days,
past or to come.

Our heavens are immeasurable,
invisible to the Copernican eye.
Our stars are for wishing not for counting.
They pull time like taffy between their fingers
and laugh at vertex and vortex and vector
attempts to bind
understand
believe.

We are bound
by something that the sky cannot contain.

We do not follow the moon,
the moon follows us, and I am ready now
new, half, full
for you.