Orbits

‘Orbits’

You are leaving an orbit and I speak as one
Who has been left behind. 
Left behind, to tidy the bathroom,
To clear out the salmon pink bottles of
Soap and Glory and Glitter Rub.
There’s a ruffled intensity.
A quiet, bruised immensity about the thing,
This thing itself, the breaking down of gravity.
We’re listless and agog, open drooling mouths,
With our broken teeth and fat, lascivious tongues.
All that remains is starlight and the hope
That we can pull our shit together
One more time.

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