space is the place to drain the duct, my will dissolve and dissipate into an alien life form
looking back at earth i make a point to be clever, my lever that erupts and blows up the whole world
telling the moon dust it is a paradise nightmare, the rover and the footprints as my only two friends
filling the holes with my expanding saliva, when the hole is gone there will be nothing to tend
and thats when peace can start
and that when my body will sink into the ether
i can drown the hole
see how the thought makes me salivate
the moon is so vacant i must spit for forever my organs all shrivel into vacuum sealed sacks
i breathe in the soft flakes and take one step closer, a mild emphysema as the sign of a friend
the hold that it has on me phlegmatic and tiding, the axe of my old self to grind on a dead earth
thinking a while about the sound of the vacuum, of my fluid forever as the core of the moon
the thought surrounds me i just can’t let it go, like the old dead flesh it phases in and out expanding low
the stench is glowing i think ill let it grow, the old sad sack of meat and skin i had once now is snow
to moon is sacred, to become the thing you know, the last rip test from the gravity mesh as you float up from the bow
the arc transcends me it i just can’t let it go, to me the man on the moon who mistook a balloon for the fun he had below
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