Sorry I'm late.
Yes, I am the stars
and I burn uncontrollably
for you. Just you.
Countless cataclysmic deaths
and gravitational collapse;
this is the state of things.
I am a constant. Ever bright
and motionless. Hung like
silver fish on hooks. Gasping.
And dammit, won't you build
a hyperdrive, deflector shield,
life support and nav-com please?
Boldly go, long time ago.
Come discover me.
Thursday, 2 April 2015
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You've Crafted a Real Gem Here.
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Looks like you're off to a great start, poet!
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