For you, for us, for me, guess
Which element emits more beauty: the stars
Or the status lights; the unruled
Emptiness, or the machinery
Of our environmental subsistence?
Put on your suit,
Come into the air lock,
Emerge onto the gantry.
I promise you: for this small time
You will not be missed, and
I will not be missed;
But we will for a while be a point of light
Licked furiously into the dark:
And then be, in one rotation,
The lonely shadow of ourselves.
Gyroscope Review 23
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