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.