portrait of time

On a planet as large as our galaxie,
with a horizon as far as the stars are to me,
what would I see when you broke the grounds curve,
with eyes that are stronger than a telescope fit for an astronomer. My eyes would play tricks, that the shadows reveal,
colour definition would lose to lights repeal. The climate would be leaning, the sunset a colourful gleaming,
the sky would be a pane,
time would lose meaning. For one moment your dark for would stretch around the kiln fired sphere. And in that instance, I would see your abscence here.
You would be chasing your vision, a game without coverage, precision. And seeing you as star long dead, your abscence would bounce inside of my head.