Apr 13, 2019
Black Hole
The wind is stronger here. Strong enough to peak through my curls, strong enough to wring out my sundress. Nature is king. Despite all my efforts to be clean and robotic. I need the sun to darken my freckles. Need the waves to wash me up to shore. Need to watch the bird slide slick through the air. The same air that I only breath. Under water in my bathtub, skin slowly descinigrating. If I stay here long enough, I’ll actually start to dissolve. Black holes and galaxies and a planet with billions of miracles slip down the drain with the murk. Distracing ourselves with our inventions, we forget. But without acknowledging existence we’re just animals having panic attacks in boxes. M87.
