Babydoll (Just Another Cosmic Lovesong)

Would she make me feel it's ok just being me,
the greatest gift another being can bestow?
How could I ever repay thee? 
In spades: I'm gonna havta love ya  till I prove
perfection is a predicate of you to you,
perfect darling Babydoll,
last woman left with a  ladylike soul.
Where are ya?

I have lived a million years,
I have lived 10,000 lives.
Grey eminence to sun kings
and I've been the Prince of Slime (100 times).
I was Duncan Macleod's wingman until he died;
my 1st dates are legion, Space WLTM Time.
Lyrics to 'Sympathy For The Devil'
can't hold a candle to my travels:
the sherpas of Jupiter 
and bedouins of the solar wind
led me where they could  
and then I left them far behind.
When titans sat on my varifocals,
flew my ship purblind 
a 1000 lightyears 
just to be that starman
who crashed onto your planet,
my Babydoll to find.  

Bukowski says love's a dog from hell,
Eros as Cerberus.
Yin and Yang need counselling 
from J-Dogg and the G-Nius.
Security stands between us 
and the Age of Aquarius.
But dontcha know  whole horrorshow lasershow
will after all transpire divine,
once Babydoll's and my lifetimes align.

Jebus pace his cloud, checking his watch night and day.
John Lennon's like a Black 'n' Decker in his grave.
The gyres of samsara creak out screams in vain.
Cherubs in their choppers scour the astral plain.
But bang to crunch the cosmos will be peachy cool,
once Babydoll's and my souls and bodies fuse.

Shedloads of solar systems, can't list 'em,
and I've surfed the centuries
- here my Cinders is, cleaning up catshit.
Babydoll, gedoff your knees!
Dispel dismal dreams of mummy porn
and losing yourself in Marbs:
there's dust on my jacket from battlefields
older than the notion of Love
(what remains of worlds like yours 
where the only way was Mars).

Like the Lorax in a hoverchair,
thru the last black hole in despair,
Stephen Hawking typed 'sigh' then the sinking ship
of the Age of Starlight he did quit.
And on the coattails of his chemtrails,
Babydoll and I, off we sail 
into the sunset of the event horizon,
catch the Face of God with its flies undone.

Babydoll, it's a mundane Monday,
talc'd bra and gender gap pay.
But on walk to work, a silvery 
alleyway beckons:
a DeLorean from D7.
Spacetime schmutz springing 
gullwing disperses 
- ta da, voila, let there be 
Mr.Right! Yours, stepping  
out of all the multiverses
to save you from the end of life 
as you know it
and the continuation of life 
as you know it.

I have scanned animal, mineral and aerosol,
and when I wish upon a star, it's for Babydoll.
The more I search, the more observable space snowballs
stelliferous and Sisyphean. 
Starcrossed like Romeo and Spidergwen,
engagement ring of unobtainium
will only fit perfect darling Babydoll,
last woman left with a ladylike soul.
Where are ya!