Welcome, wispy visitor,
Mistress of Warm pasts
And Imagined futures
Come.
Take a seat and have a sip
Of wine:
Before long our tongues will unravel
In slipping syllables of truth
And ravel again,
In careless intimacy.

Or, of course,
We could simply talk.

For when we do
I hear the creak of the cosmos
Bending backwards
And the strain of the stars
As they tread new paths
In our favour.