worlds spin

it was just a coincidence that we met that day.
two points in one time, two times in space.
worlds spin towards each other, and spin away.
and as you spin and turn,
shadows creep over the contours of your skin,
shadows that leave no trace at all of those moments,
where such strong light seemed to shine
on what i thought i saw,
but almost so much light as to blind,
before each time you spin away.

and slowly my gravity distorts,
axis spins, quivers and shifts,
and i did not choose this but can't resist
the pull towards,
that twists my orbit a bit
too much,
chasing the fading light behind
curves of absence,
not really wanting but unable to stop,
as if my spin isn't stable enough,
pulled in like towards a small black hole
to plummet and drag in
everything else that matters,
all matter sucked in,
indiscriminately,
until i know i can't see you anymore down here,
can't see anyone else,
can only see what i think you must be,
how you must fit exactly to me,
fill up my shadows
with something that will finally hold me in place,
like gravity given a slap in the face.

and i know this spin isn't good for me.
worlds spin together, and spin away.
i think i can't see you for a few days.

the days go by,
and the shadows fade,
and the gravitational pull
slips away.
this is not
an orbit
around you;
it's just a beat i'm moving to -
two hands, two feet, two shoulder blades,
two eyes, two knees, two sides of my own symmetry,
one spine running down between,
a clean cut right through my own breadth,
my very own axis, around which i spin,
two halves, planted firmly on the ground,
one rhythm, split to many sounds.
this is not an orbit around you;
it's just a beat i'm moving to.
two worlds spin to their own beats,
but just so happen to chance to meet.
it was just a coincidence that we met that day.
worlds spin together, and spin away.
and i can only see you, if i spin this way.