Because we’re all satellites

Because we’re satellites

set free in motion by the want of life,


we drift,

we encounter,

we love,

we fall under.

We collide,

we cry.

We drift apart,

and fly far out

until the leagues in between 

dissolve the ugly,

and aurify the pain.






When the satellites cross again—

as if by chance,

as if new,

as if it was meant to…


As if.


Until then.



Image—Orbit by Kate Banazi



One day, I will find the words to shout the thing shaking in me. To tell you  how I’m still out of breath standing where you met me, spinning on my feet, trying to remember how this is all just in my head; but wondering, then how you’re out there knowing- just knowing. And if you’re not out there, but within me, how did I ever lose sight of you-the most gracious star particle in my sky?

One day, I will find the right words, but then, I’ll no longer be one, but a million scattered across everything.

But you’ll know. Of course you’ll know.      


Photo - Man Ray: Observatory Time, 1936

Photo – Man Ray: Observatory Time, 1936