She’s like a quasar, the brightest thing in the night sky.
You mention to her that you haven’t seen her shining as often anymore.
Maybe the watered-down sex life doused her burning flames like the holes in your sweaters just weren’t big enough to feed the flames
Your addiction turns to obsession,
And obsession turns into depression,
because she doesn’t want to see you anymore
your night-time love has faded,
maybe it was because you forgot that light always dampens the bright stars of the sky,
so your spotlight scared her away like a gazelle in the savanna
but, unlike the mighty cheetah, you couldn’t catch her.
So the only thing you were left with was your spotlight,
and nothing to shine it on.