The After-Party

The clock ticks 2, I think
But time is immortal here,
And the immobile stars watch us
As we bring colour to the night.
Painting the silence with words
As we learn about parallel lives,
With each glimpse lasting an eternity.
An obsession becomes love, now.

I do not love blindly as before -
So ill-fated were those moons,
But these dreams are so richly fuelled
With truth, and wide-eyed wonder,
How else can you amaze me? I dread
To think of your further perfections,
Lest this be a balloon leaping in wonder
Soon to be slashed by the cruel heavens.

I wonder if you love me as I adore you,
And curse myself for harbouring impossibility.