You scare me,

With your face like the moon.

It turns like an owl,

And stares with a loom.

Your greetings are invites,

And your words spoken like a tale.

You can’t be real,

A human so pale.

Not by completion but by complexity,

A drawing of what a person could be.

Your a mystical creature,

Far from this land.

But your nice enough,

With gentle hands.

I can forgive your solemn face,

Because your heart ticks with grace.

Come with me,

We can escape this foreign place.

Neither you or I belong to this race,

We are part of people in space.

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