i want to tell you that
the earth's rays reach gazillicons
of starships, and warm them,
and the feelers respond to that
light and heat, and they poke their
way out of achingly cold, brittle skin,
and they unravel.

i want to tell you that the
waters of pattern are rough,
that the tides wear away at rocks,
when they expose themselves,
making them soft.
i want to tell you that.

in a whirlwind of detritus
and activity,
the only inclination is towards
solace,
when things are healthy.
please be healthy;
truly healthful, happy solace,
someday.
please unravel your antennae
and let us look at the earth,
together.


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