Author: Alzo David-West

an autonomous
neural capsule drifts
in the orion nebula

This is my star song to you. Here I am in this watercolor night. Listen. Hear my whisper. I love you. My words will travel across the cloudy trails. And even after a billion years, my song will come, journeying to be with you. Accept my love, and accept my fear. Know that my passing life is now this form. Tomorrow was always today. No one understands, other than us, how this love endures even after our particles become the birth and death of stars. Your dusty tired eyes are closed now. But look at the planets amid the purple and sepia vapors, rotating far, rotating near. See these sparkling apparitions, the plasmic storms and the veils, the stars like mountains, the terrains of electric gravity, the rain of my song, the sounds of our happiness. See it now. Here it is. Believe me. It is true. I lived, and I lay down to dream, and with meteors, I live again for you, in cycles and spirals and turns, from levels to dimensions that go from near, to in, and far, and out, and back again.