In the faraway nightscape,

where the stars make funny shapes

I somehow see you clearly,

even on the cloudiest nights

Eighty-eight constellations,

and yours is the only one that

I can map without my glasses, 

for it is etched into each beat of my heart

and the only shape 

that puts a wholehearted smile on my face

And as the Moon cycles,

only when it blooms to its fullest form

is the only time I can see myself right beside you

So let the stars amuse us,

as the mysteries of the night confine us

in tandem, our souls orbit

we sing our serenade.