Trying to be poetic through a prose

The thing is, well, the thing, rather a thing is, scientifically, but I’m not going with “has volume, has mass”, only with “occupies space”, so much space that you forget, actually you never thought of it so there’s nothing to forget but I don’t know where I’m going with this or if I can actually go somewhere or I have somewhere to go to begin with but the space is now yours, the space I respectfully belong to, I-I now belong to you-r space.

But it seemed to me, that I was sent high above the sky, close to space, only to look back and see how tiny we people are, how small you are, how minute we both are, but it only took a second for you to capture my whole world, or might only have taken less. Forget the space, forget the lecture on matter, forget the fantasy about me being sent up high, but disregard not what I’ve been really trying to tell you, trying to let you visualize, conceptualize, no, not conceptualize, but realize, until you finally understand that despite all this gibberish, the thing is…       

Sun

I have not a picture of you
But I see your image everyday
Hoping that for every sundown
draws closer to a sunrise

revealing not an image
but a definite being of you

And when that date comes
I’ll make my eyes wide open
Trying to record all of it
And when the unfortunate sundown occurs

I’ll slowly close my eyes
and wait for another sunrise

There was no promise made
Though your eyes spoke to me
I was given a feel of a return
It’s pretentious, but I will wait

No matter how long it takes
I will take it anyway

For when that day comes
I’d no longer open wide my eyes
Nor try to record everything
For even when the unfortunate sundown occurs

I’d gladly close my eyes
Knowing that when I open it
We’ll both witness the sunrise
I was telling you about