“We constantly try to find who we are, because it’s too scary to find out for our selves.”

In the periphery of the center of the universe,
the fear is palpable:
looking anywhere else means admitting
there are things that exist
further away
from the most pinnacle point.

And we don’t even come close.

We pick stars from the sky like flowers
and sail the water
around a rock
around molten lava
around a star.

And we call this our home.

We become enlightened
by pointing to the horizon
and swinging through our home runs.

We climb mountains to see
what clouds look like
from above.

We rock back and forth
assuring ourselves
“there’s no place like home.”

But with this bent metal sextant,
I couldn’t read the horizon
if the Earth was flat
and my heart was a voice
I still listened to.


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