You scare me,
With your face like the moon.
It turns like an owl,
And stares with a loom.
Your greetings are invites,
And your words spoken like a tale.
You can’t be real,
A human so pale.
Not by completion but by complexity,
A drawing of what a person could be.
Your a mystical creature,
Far from this land.
But your nice enough,
With gentle hands.
I can forgive your solemn face,
Because your heart ticks with grace.
Come with me,
We can escape this foreign place.
Neither you or I belong to this race,
We are part of people in space.
