Formations are the same in the evening sky,

Wherever I glance I can be next to you again,

Miles away yet I am still wanting to be with you,

Not as much in the physical sense as intellectual.

I want you to help me to solve some riddles,

And it seems likely well especially now,

When I am spewing out these words to Henley,

I can write forever and try to figure out just why,

But I cannot,

I still am unable,

I’m drawn,

Tight

To a sort of noose of reality,

That piece of recognition suggests I am wrong,

And no one cares to correct me anymore.

Outside, the stars align the same way,

Every night.