When will you stop asking who I am?
When will you realize that I am your friend?
When will you recognize the flower of the morning star has
once again come back to stare at the beauty of the night?
I cannot do this on my own… nor would I want to
Because of the beauty that I behold in everything that you are
I am a third rock astronaut and I deny not that which I am
I find it in the darkest parts of me
I repeat it in MY OWN MIND.
Now can I just be happy to dance in the light that you gave me?
