©2000 by Bastet
The emptiness of intergalactic space, all matter of
hard to detect things, escaped stars full of energy,
colliding attention, oceans of vacuum energy. Identity
remains the same. A faint glow produced soil.
Spiral-shaped kaffee liquid
Just distant fuzzy objects beckoning me, evoking me,
diminutive , I think not.
Dots... put there by some artist who lives in New
York. She can not see them so clearly, she wonders in
her cocoon with her turtle heart.
A never ending destiny or story hung up in a gallery
somewhere in New York to be on display for all to
break open.....and walk away. Where we, the people of
this Planet look up at it and return to our bad
Super heated supernova, exotic phenomenon, Seductive
orbit is traveling. Every moment I feel, every urgent
distance splashes too well. We have been called
innocent to dearly.
Spilled milk lays across earths night time sky, not
yet sour. Its in a Typical galaxy where I've escaped.
I withhold a hundred billion of them. Warped space
mimics the action of velvet sky's and ice cold swirls
It's all in me, It's in me, the part left unexplained
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