the moon, a balloon and a helium heart

The sudden clear skies late this afternoon are just the lift I need and it gets me up and out and down the hill to the riverside where the sun is stooping low, welding its brilliance across the water. It gets lower and solders and burns its way across to where I am standing. It rises up the bank and begins drawing its fire up the middle of my body until it finds my solar plexus and ignites: something starts to crack.
A release. It is my helium heart light and free-floating out of the shell I have become up into icy blue to find the moon. I once looked at the moon and saw us, looked at this same moon with you. Now I can only send up this emissary of the heart and all that remains is myself here, simply me wrestling some kind of lonesome romance in this cosmic dance where I triangulate the heart, the moon and I all moving and changing in time and in space.
The helium heart moves across the moon and loses its shape and starts to descend and is lost. The sun finally sizzles onto the horizon, and takes its light elsewhere. I might as well head back up the hill home.