beautify me under the stars.
Your great canopy, umbrella; sheath to the unknown orbit
glancing under eyelids in fascination.
Are they really that concerned with us?
Worthy to re-route a journey through solar complexities
and tunnels shredded by speed...
If I cross, will my body stay intact?
I think I might just close my eyes and let my mind do the gliding
see if I can catch a ride on someone else's steed.