final frontier

if it was eternal night
and small humming noises were suspended around us like
comatose breathers,
and if, in the flaring light, you striped the hallways with your pacing,

breathe in, remember,
breathe out, forget,

there in the sterile corridors I would touch you gently;
if we were warping wanderers, I would try to ease the fading.

enterprise corridors

 

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One response

  1. I’ve missed reading your poetry…heck, my life has had a serious poetry deficiency for the last year at least. But this is beautiful…and somehow deeply languid.

    August 3, 2014 at 11:00 am

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