~ man on the moon, woman in orbit, unrequited science. nowhere to land, nothing to feel, it might as well be Siberia. luminaries change, control lingers in the framework.
the heavens revolve βdeasil and artificial. she has revolutions of her own, legs that once swam everyday in his backyard pool, (that once draped around his coil) now openly kick free from his lunar confines.
he starts the countdown βone one thousand, two one thousand, but she's not coming for him. she's chasing other transmissions, the bones of what she believes, hoping something out there can activate her heart. ~