It’s Bob’s fault
If she knew about Bob Lazar would she be intrigued?
Would space lead to a collaboration of stories weaved?
Rising like Apollo I’d lift for every occaion.
Each sweeping manifestation, a biblical revelation.
As sublime and divine as the fictional crime.
The universe may admire her beauty and that’s unquestionable.
However her brains flirted with me briefly through the darkness and the smoke.
I’m glad the visions changed and more so that I hadn’t spoke.
Somewhere beyond subconscious within reach yet untouchable.
Like Faith without the habit, A magician without a rabbit.
I am complete.
© G.P Williamson 2017