What is more banal than a star,
More hackneyed than: “they shine afar?”
Each one is just within our sight,
An ageless remnant of delight. . . .
Uh, I meant to say of old light.
The Milky Way is such a bore;
It proves the old saw that more
Is less, babes in a matron’s dress,
Secrets we never fail to guess.
I stare at them under duress.
But when I look into your eyes,
Their light is as new as sunrise.
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