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Aphelion and Periastron

We are but celestials upon the infinite dark canvas,
Placed at birth and set to float,
Guided by forces ineffable.

There are comets, eccentric and wandering,
Shooting through their own private universe,
Passing by but never getting too close,
Lest they be taken, and their song of freedom end.

There are suns, their appeal bright and unmistakable,
Irresistible as gravity,
Collecting friends, family, lovers,
Like adornments to their glory, glittering in the endless night,
As they, too, trace their orbits through society.

Stars fall, comets are captured.
Suns shrink, planets break free.
The canvas shakes and sends us all off,
Flying apart on new and dizzying trajectories,
New songs for the eternal dance of human stars.