I’m open to interpretation, mon chéri,
As long as there is no room for subjugation…
If you get lost in my eyes
is it only because
the light is hitting them just right
and you witness a clear reflection of your likeness?
The moon is not a friend of the clock-
I’m open to investigation,mon choupinet,
As long as it leads to implementation…
If you can’t see your life
without me in it
is it because my soul is so heavy to bear
that if it weren’t there you’d feel weightless?
The sun never frets for the moon-
I’m open to adoration, mon nounours,
but not the kind that becomes recrimination…
The moon is not a friend of the clock-
The sun never frets for the moon-
If we don’t make it to dawn-
If we run out of light-
If my soul bleeds all over you with all of its might
Will you regret-
how I spent your eclipsed life?