i like to imagine myself trekking across
a great desert, or tundra, or wasteland,
and it’s dark but the sky is glowing
with stars and the sun on the horizon
and everything is that beautiful natural violet.
there is nothing for miles and miles and miles
and in every direction is the same thing.
i walk over hills and through ditches
but in the hugeness of the landscape
they are nothing, and it’s still wide and flat.
i wonder and i dance and i shout at the sky
and i flail my arms around and trip over
and i yell and grin and shake to the stars
and to the space beyond them, that infinity.
i tip my head upwards and smile to
infinite amounts of infinite things up there.
i am confused and i am lost and i am scared
and in all of that i’ve found the most joy
that is even possible to be felt.
i scream at the infinity in a friendly way
as if i’ve figured out its secrets,
as if we’re on the same page.
i thank it and i laugh at it and i scold it
for everything that i feel and know and am
because one of the infinite things up there
must have given it to me,
whether it knows it or not,
and i feel safe and tiny and fleeting
and i am so happy to be the
tiny second of useless time and phenomena
that i am.