shells
glimpsing beneath the veil again,
the place of debris where the underneath
lives separate from beyond the veil
which thins, which lifts,
which reminds us of home.
where below there exists only particles of dust
and a place where the veil, once removed,
knows no face to gaze upon.
discarded, discarnate.
i run my finger along the forgotten space and sneeze.
it leaves a trace, we just don’t know where to look.
– alex in outer space
🗝️
the eve of the sagittarius blue moon
the last three or so minutes of i want you (she’s so heavy) = the current vibe in the air.
to starry night
when it’s become so
ubiquitous that every
unique perspective
has been exhausted
the only thing left to do
is return to awe.
– alex in outer space
tenth muse
i’d wondered if sappho
pondered atlantis
but atlantis was first
whispered in this world
to plato, supposedly,
who came long after,
yet still pondered sappho.
and i wonder what
sappho would think
if she could see me here,
in 2023,
reading her salvaged fragments
with chapped lips
beneath fluorescent lighting.
and i wonder how it feels,
if it could be felt,
to be so taken out of context
and still,
Remembered.
– alex in outer space
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