Access: 27 Astronauts Without Helmets
Assuring words of alliances.
Opportunistic offerings over oculus’s.
Relaxing tightened strings of tension between rippling energies.
A wave is forged.
Reaching forward from shores of reservation, casted towards reciprocal acceptances.
Together the hands meet.
Fingers interlaced, admiring the warmth from the sensory receptors.
Reciprocating breathes.
Diaphragmatic dancing.
Over a belly of tangoing buttons.
Nuchal cord’s together, balancing each others center of gravity.
Stabilizing each others reservoirs of emotions.
Spewing soft secretions of sanity into each others quadrants of empty solar pockets.
Distinguishing the former yellow flames, cooling erratic emotions into purity.
Forming a white dwarf star.
On the brink of a black hole being forged, new breathe is ignited from the belly.
Cascading inverted life streams from the root to crown.
Gathering into upturned waters falls of creation to every corner of the cervical regions.
New thoughts of safety and similarities are sanctioned.
Heart strings unhinged, creating anew strum.
A new humm within the om’s.
A new voice of Earth is created.
A dying star transformed into a new moon.
Words spoken from emotions rather than causalities.
A fragment has been reclaimed.
A construct has been revealed.
A timeline overlaid.
Heart strings connected.
We are who we were before.
As if our awareness has ever changed.
We are back to the center.
Balanced gravitational centers.
Turning the axis of restraint to a degree of openness.
Allowance of another’s orbit in the same space.
A gravitational anomaly.
An oddity in space.
A peculiar processing of polarities.
A mixture of star dust and waterfalls.
We were astronauts without helmets.