Seeing stars on the inside of my eyelids,
dreaming of spinning through galaxies upside down,
discussing the meaning of words with an alien named Bob.
harsh. fear. eons.
Bob says it's their problem.
Hurtling toward sparkly space dust and debris,
light-years blinding as they speed by.
young. old. lollipop.
Bob says he's confused, as a gift.
Creating comets by twirling shiny batons,
undiscovered planets whispering secrets,
super nova exploding, wormhole beckoning.
color. black. existence.
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