And the earth was
wide
and flat
and we
and we were two
simple clay beings
surrounded by monstrous empire,
bombarded by spiny insults,
hurled by the unknown
and flying now,
through glassy oceans,
under galactic mountains.
dandelion wine on our lips.
heavy hearts
and heavy arms.
sweaty hands grab
clinging in the midnight still
waiting just for the pad of a thumb
to rub away all but our fantastic fantasies
our frolicking, secluded everything
our joy and wrenching, potent way of feeling.
nervous hands never fall away.