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Once    every few thousand years,     a comet fades into view      at an hour some call “unholy”. It hangs    out of place, not a moon and not    quite a star, a wisp of incandescence I never saw. We talked    for light-years over soup,     word-danced on an empty rooftop. The glow remains,     no matter how far apart we orbit    through cold and godless space,    past new worlds       we’ll never know.
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Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 11:50 PM UTC
Star-Crossed Exile
Once    every few thousand years,     a comet fades into view      at an hour some call “unholy”. It hangs    out of place, not a moon and not    quite a star, a wisp of incandescence I never saw. We talked    for light-years over soup,     word-danced on an empty rooftop. The glow remains,     no matter how far apart we orbit    through cold and godless space,    past new worlds       we’ll never know.
Space comet neowise sky
#space#comet#neowise#sky
Antinoart
Written by
Antinoart
33/M/Raleigh, NC
Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 11:50 PM UTC
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