this body isn’t real, it’s fluid water.
after an endless drought, order is found in flood.
there’s one way out and it’s covered in mud.
to stay yet not belong anymore is to be a corner at borders.
driving up the M31 near Eora next stop andromeda.
index on eureka circling around the stars.
if you zoom out far enough you can trace the skyline in the cut of a wound.
all that remains is a world-weary planet burned out to the core …
— hurry up, it’s time to go to the moon.
floating above swept up in flights of wonder,
empty space is only home to the void and transient thunder.
lightning broke the bottle, now fragments in time drift asunder
This piece is a personal reflection on burnout caused by stress and overworking, through a loose narrative of an overzealous astronaut hallucinating while journeying into space. The higher they go, the further they lose connection to everything they once knew including their identity, community and memory.
