Decoy

Perfectly aligned lines in centres,

Are where your petty little heart meant.

Numbers to it all, you said; this orb.

Painstaking persuasion trying to make your statement.

But.

You are not one and all.

You do not make the rain fall.

You do not make the stars come out.

You do not turn my track to the tiger's cave.

I'd like to prize your lust wide with love's slave?

Maybe.

But that's just a touch on an ocean of hands.

It doesn't make you a timepiece in a land devoid light.