A sinking ship at the innards of deep space.
That’s me.
An invisible speck on the tip of your eyes.
Radiating simplistic waves that change your mind.
Abruptly, I see an ambiguous image
of a godlike figure tickling at the back of my skull.
I find it hard to believe its lies.
Hull damage imminent.
But nonetheless. I follow.
As if compelled by some off worldly magic.
Then I ask myself as I hardly swallow,
“How do you know the nature of galaxy?”
and I suddenly remember.
Trial and error.