A million stars-
at least, for I have stopped counting-
have wrapped themselves around us.
The machinery doesn’t work
and I don’t know where we are now.

Where is the nearest galaxy?
Where is the nearest home?
I don’t know, I don’t know,
and I’m trying to find my gravity
and everything’s floating around.

Close my eyes.
A million stars flood into view,
frazzling out when fed light.
Paradoxical – stars that refuse to shine
and choose to smother themselves out
like dying cigarette buds.

I’m sitting here
but my head feels like it’s in space-
like I’m so high up in the clouds
I’m not even within our atmosphere.
I can feel the stars watching me
and the ballet in space continues,
continues, a pas de deux of
silence and floating memory,
here yet not here, near but far,
hiding amongst millions of stars.

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