i'm an astronaut,
aimlessly floating through space,
afraid to grasp at
floating objects,
moving swiftly 'round me,
pointless calculations
of velocity and direction,
consume my decisions
until it's all out of reach.

though i'm pulled towards
these stars,
they're much too dangerous to touch,
the reactions, the heat,
i know not to get pulled in,

but meteor, you shine,
with an effervescent glow,
smooth rounded corners,
i edge slowly towards you,
butterfly stroking
through zero gravity,
it's not long until you
fill the gaze through this helmet,

but proximity somehow
changes this drive,
i justify waiting
by forcing imperfections,
shrugging off the journey
before it even happens,
after all probability states that
this mission will likely
end incomplete,
trajectories in sync
are a rarity at best,
perfect arcs can quickly differ
soon after their peaks.

this vacuous environment
clouds better judgment,
fleeting moments of comfort are
like recycled air,
bland maintenance of life,
the taste of postage stamps.

let's not forget the reason,
why we now float aimless,
years of training for a mission,
that fell apart when truly tested.