Your grace illuminates my day:
Domed lead sky turned crystal
By the alchemy of your beauty.
Your magnetism repulses me
From fearing your polar end
That will off-end me--off what
Could be, not what is certain.
Still, I know you are not the center;
Your cold heat refracts only;
It burns nothing. Motion-
Less you are polar, and I dare
Not reach into your gravity,
For sake of setting into motion
No tides to arrest stability.
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