Saturday, July 11, 2015

Galactic limbo

There is a door

sometimes I peek through

sometimes I dare to open
and drag out this box
filled with all that's left undone
but I cannot seem to bare
the weight
of
the never ending pile,
so I hide it back
and I guard it well;
I care
that it doesn't get lost 
that other people won't touch it
and distort its form
which still fits

or that it doesn't stain
what I chose;

as we add little pieces to it;

our own Venus 

that always comes second
and I wonder
when will we go for the moon?




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