Un Sospiro

Night falls twice, one to vault
the chair, two to toe, tango.
Lovers fault feet of others,
shameless. Love lacks fault,
right? So it was the fault of
San Andreas, then, leading
earthquakes to footfalls stepping
on other footfalls. Imagine, then,
how the feet must feel! (Poor saps,
they'll get the rhythm, or else
find themselves lacking partners.)
Keep eyes on your own feet, your
partner is Jupiter, who has
sixty-three moons and
a nasty streak. Dance
with him, greet him kindly,
avoid his wife. It's a cycle, falling
in love and into space; if one moon
catches you, then count yourself lucky.
If an earthquake splits your sky, please
question how. Even more important than
asking how, please wonder why.
Gravity's defined based on where
you fall, not how, and the sky
a path bursting from a sigh.