To wander beyond the clouds is a product of human intelligence.
Physically bound to the sources of earth.
Through the thick stardust, resisting the enticing black holes, the mind can leave and return as it pleases.
We are victims of captivity,  at the hands of gravity, and the knowing there of.

I drive with 15 eyes open,
Eyes that never blink,
I am her protector.
Although we must be apart throughout the day,
It makes the time we spend together short and unfair but sweet.
I pick her up ever so gently as to not wake her,
The warmth of her breathe on my neck make the walk to the door bearable.
As I lay her down she looks at me, she understands I have to leave.
Departing so painful.
When we reunite she runs towards me, for a minute I am her focus, and I realize the beauty in our routine.
Tomorrow will come inevitably, and again, I’ll have to let her go.

Removing the cap of my pen, what an exhilaration,
gentle strokes to show my precision, taking pleasure in every curve and hard angle, my distaste for so much control, I press the pen down until it decides to drip.

The crunching of the rocks beneath my boots, showcases my pace.
So mundane a task a child could do it.
A thousand leaves make a journey to such an unnatural fate.
A dead cactus displays the unfortunate end, as the cactus next to it appears unaffected.
I leave the dead cactus remains, to remove it, would be to remove the print that it made.