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You falter, one foot dangling seamlessly in midair before dropping; the moment of the fall, the transcendence of it makes me wonder if I could go ahead; could I explode into a million glittering pieces and launch myself past the stars into the mass gyrating grave of four million suns? into a dark not even light can escape? Could I just suspend there, at the edge of the gyre, feeling my body lull into half-time. Could I watch, then, as the Earth spun in real-time, allowing me a very modest amount of years for life to settle; returning when the time is right. My body, compounding back into solid flesh, plunking back to Earth, just as I had left, a weeping puppet, and I’d pretend as if I’d been there all this time.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:16 PM UTC
Time Travel
You falter, one foot dangling seamlessly in midair before dropping; the moment of the fall, the transcendence of it makes me wonder if I could go ahead; could I explode into a million glittering pieces and launch myself past the stars into the mass gyrating grave of four million suns? into a dark not even light can escape? Could I just suspend there, at the edge of the gyre, feeling my body lull into half-time. Could I watch, then, as the Earth spun in real-time, allowing me a very modest amount of years for life to settle; returning when the time is right. My body, compounding back into solid flesh, plunking back to Earth, just as I had left, a weeping puppet, and I’d pretend as if I’d been there all this time.
This poem is definitely not finished. If you have any critiques, please share.
leah-wetterau
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:16 PM UTC
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