I’m trapped in

Space.

 

Just left of where the iris fades

And the liquorice wheel begins to

Unfurl,

That’s where you’ll find me,

Spinning,

Spiralling,

Doing somersaults through the night

Sky.

 

But I’m no shooting star,

Steering the painter’s brush,

Think more white dwarf,

Ho-hum and hung out to

Dry,

 

While that girl,

She’s the brightest star in an

Asterism, sweet cataplasm,

Sitting pretty at the end of the

Rainbow road,

Red, Orange, Yellow,

Green, Blue,

You.

 

The girl with the glitter ball

Cheekbones,

And eyes bigger and bluer than

Neptune!

Oh! How she disco-dances across the

Sequinned sea,

So far away, she won’t see me,

But I can

Her.

 

Yes! Through my

Automatic, achromatic, haemorrhagic lens,

I’ll zoom in on her,

Such celestial splendour,

She’s like quartz,

Winking at me,

Turning my eyes to

Pulp.

 

The interstellar iceberg,

Let us play hopscotch across the

Planets,

And I’ll close my eyes and count to

Ten,

And pray she’ll be in my

Sights once again.

 

Mon Dieu!

But how blinding her

Beauty be,

She’s burning magnesium

Against an empty TV screen,

The star of a show which ended

Weeks ago.

 

But still she flickers,

With her silver skirt and tangelo toes,

How I’d love to be the

Notches on her asteroid belt,

And squeeze her tight,

Until I find my way home.

 

But instead I stand still,

Stuck, ankle-deep in the treacle,

Deep trouble, deep confusion,

These boots weren’t made for

Moonwalking girl,

Nor was this heart ready for the

Catalepsy.

 

And so she strays towards the darkness,

Further and further and

Further,

Until my outstretched arm becomes a

Dot amongst the

Stars.

 

But while she may be light-years away,

I’ll still love her, needless to say.