"...But to me the darkness was red-gold and crocus-coloured, With your brightness, And the words you whispered to me, Sprang up and flamed—orange torches against the rain. Torches against the wall of cool, silver rain!" ---Summer Rain, Amy Lowell
Will we always be aliens?
Pieces of me, my essence
Left behind everywhere I go
A satellite losing parts
As it orbits, this galaxy
Is too vast for me to ever find my identity
Serial number out floating
In the Kuiper Belt.
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