Rocket
by me(whatever)
to Campanella (akane_madder)
On the surface of a smooth planet,
gripping and felling the iron works
dents and scrapes and sparking wires
a ball of outer stars
slipping and falling
landing, stalling.
If it was blue within and without,
the digital process viewing windows
there was a dream far away
a snail in the milky way
gliding and singing
straddling, clinging.
Childish paper airplane
compensation at the tolling
black and curling and fading
a crumpled up message
living and wishing
dying, missing.
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