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When I can no longer believe you love me
I will look for a shower of meteors
Like the one you gifted me with just now,
Amazing me with your ability to give every year,
Between the clasped hands
Of a dark sky and our limited horizon.

Perseus may not swing his whirlwind sword
Flying over my head on the dust left by comets
Each time I ask this,
But I have fanfare enough in my heart
To measure the arc, and count flashes
Until you love me once more.