Idly, I supposed that,
By most standards,
It would have been romantic of me
To compare you to a star.
But, by the time we see stars,
Here on Earth,
They are long dead.
Why would I compare you,
The greatest and brightest burning fire
In my life,
To a dead mass, a lifeless ball of gas?
When you are here, and alive, and present,
And wild and full of life?
So,
In a moment of complete and poignant clarity,
I shall compare you to nothing
But you and only you.
For there is nothing nor no one,
Who can be more you than you are right now.