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Blown. Rotating over and over Black space curls about his body White glove Black face No trace of where he'd been He shivers Cold orbits his eyes Pierces his spine Through fibers dense He winds along invitingly Open to the empty cold "Catch me. Catch me now." He curls Cradled in the freezing Black empty pinpricked Vacuous "Oh..." He groans And tightly in a ball Over and over falls Swift-shifting round an atmosphere Golden and gone. |