New poem – cosmologos

The liminal glitch
of dark matter
pulls my mind upward

the glitter of stars is a lie

The photons that reach us
are old – no one asks them,
‘Are you tired?’
when they finally get here
and die to bring my nerves
something new

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Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

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