Thoughts from the Hubble
June 20, 2014

Star-shine out of reach
Proximity’s profane
Like fictitious friction
Perhaps frictitious fiction?
Sparks form, and still too high
Top shelf and next to beauty
Ceramic jar above the fridge
Hid beneath a weighted lid
Fear of falling, true
Fear of spaces, too
A star afar
To be beheld
A star too close
To blind and melt
And thus I know
I have no place
Not with a star
Like you