It was observed by Edwin Hubble
that the universe we share
is expanding like a bubble
filling up with wasted air.
Today I think I can explain
how space does fill its growing hole:
Wasted love and love in vain
is pouring out of every soul.
Yes, every lonely longing mind
is a warmer source of rays
than the three degrees they find
coming from the cosmic maze.
My hand will always want your body’s heat,
My ears your voice, your heart, its beat.
My tongue your taste, forever sweet.
Yes, to my nose you will always smell lovely,
To my eyes you will never look ugly,
Though time might try, and try us madly.