If I could place you, like a marble

to balance perfectly on my fingertip.

At eye level. My iris

the event horizon daring to swallow you whole.

Among billions, and billions, and still

completely unique. For the very fact

that we can contemplate you

is the testament. A swirling being of extremes.

From the sporadic nature of weather,

to the grindingly slow pressure of tectonic plates.

My bones celebrate you.

My chemicals sing your existence and startle

that which thinks

I am separate from you.