and that eye-locked gaze –
like meeting a soulmate randomly,
became the axis for which
my world slowly turned.
though no longer merely slowly,
but an intensification of gravity
which breathed decades
into mere burning minutes,
decades of grieving centuries lost
in wayward orbit collecting space junk
and calling it experience, calling it me,
calling it what I was meant to be.
decades of compact space junk
broken down, giving me a firm footing
to stand in this nebulous bog,
primordial swamp eating me as gravity
pulls me down into the mud of my belly.
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