If I am lost in space
please call me home to dinner
I desperately want to hear
to hang on every morsel
that slips between your lips
and let your saliva drip
down my throat like honey
into that cavern that is void.
As I float along the kitchen ceiling
I see you, I see me
and the smoke that arises from you
dissipates as steam into the air
and that atmosphere called space
is as still and as silent
as walls of snow
silent and empty between us.
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