Contemplating Love

The space between myself and open sky
is anise-velvet curiosity
It saturates the welkin, wonders why
those pensile moons of pearled monstrosity
were drawn to join the deco-disks of Saturn
while planets spun, pontificating courses.
Did Newton’s laws of force dictate their patterns;
or random fate what heaven reinforces?
Revolving slowly, is my nature turned,
magnetically, incredibly attracted,
unable to decipher or discern
if gravity or chance has me distracted.
Oysters orbit lunar satellites;
I am clasping thoughts of you tonight.