Surveying Galaxies Like An Amputee

Look, no big deal, once I won the jackpot? Or synchronicity aligned to see our body chemistries again landlocked. What's the equation that brought you to me? When two- was more than one mapped out as three? Yet, moving apart like mountain snow drifts surveying galaxies like an amputee plotting a missing limb with detached fingertips that now is too frozen, unconnected to form a handshake or make a base camp. Loving bosom to the disaffected families go on, succeed after an avalanche; bury each other in blanket silences or those often frequent impolitenesses.