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,
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,