I can't be bothered to be your princess today - maybe tomorrow.
Today I think I would rather exist as an idea.
Oriented this way, and that
to point directly at the centre of my own sun.
Present fluctuating
with the ebb and flow
of passion and disinterest.
A colorless, careless moon
one big eye glares
down on my escapades (or lack thereof)
disdainfully amused.

Look at the ants scurry -
watch those monkeys dance!
And her;
watch her feeling empty and inadequate,
fiery with pride,
giddy with laughter.
Why should it matter to me?

I am too far to reach,
too cold to carress.

I have seen the crowded space -
Stars vying for a chance to rub up against celestial bodies.
it's a matter of perspective.
And look! see the moons' precision;
watch it wax and wane.

Does it touch me?

why should I care.