I wonder if it's enough to know that, eventually, the planets will align.

Or maybe, they already are, and when they were thrown in the air like baseballs and stuck to the sticky atmospheric dome-vaulted sky, that's where they were supposed to be, where great god was aiming all along. And we stare and stare and stare because they look like the silly freckles on our next door neighbor, the one who forgot to comb her hair.

We're waiting and I guess we'll wait forever because they're sitting on their self, above the fireplace there, basking in the correctness of his and hers existance.

Yes?