sometimes i think you’re an alien from another planet
and most of the time i know you think the same of me.
but then i wonder.
maybe we’re both aliens from the same planet
but we’re from opposite poles.
we recognize each other as being the same,
but we’re speaking different languages.
it’s fate. we’ve found
across the stars,
tucked away in some corner
of some galaxy,
so far away from home.
we know it’s fate,
but we don’t know how
to say it.
so we keep trying.
and i know even if that were true -
and then if we were back home on our planet
with all the aliens like us -
somehow the stars would still line up the same.
you’d still have affixed to me
and i’d still be fixed on you.
speaking different languages
but knowing the same things.