Cosmos
Are the stars Her rhinestones,
or are rhinestones our stars?
And is He Her Date, Her Paramour,
or Her Modiste, Her Designer?
For that Matter, is the Firmament
a bedsheet, or a gown?
And are we at The Ball
or in The Dream?
And at Midnight—true Midnight—
and Noon—true Noon
like a New or Full Moon
or either holy Solstice—
nadirs, zeniths,
apogees, perigees—
do we start the dream,
the dance, all over,
or wake to start
for the first time
this particular way
this particular day
the enchantment having grown
so much as to make
All bearable, finally,
or its converse, Nothing,
finally,
unbearable?