Shooting Planets

Within the burning heart of molten rocks, Great pressures forced your brilliance to shine; Inclusions marred your body with their pocks, A brownish hue now laced with olivine. Before you ever had a chance to grow, An interstellar pileup set you free; Thrown out into a cold and blank tableau, An empty, unforgiving, blackened sea. … Read more

%d bloggers like this: