It makes sense
To cleave your god from mine
When you would only suckle
your side of motherland
I shall relocate my hungers too
Let's break for love is merely
A mathematically measurable reality
I'll allow my endearments to piggyback
And you may gather your breath
[ if you can chisel it off me]

Tonight is perhaps the night
That we sit on tangents
Wait for our own sunrises

Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca Roger Platt Cornish Martin

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cleaved-sun/