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Into space.

These days I feel torn in two directions

Pulled and tugged and wishing I could split into two, for my

Spaceship bumbling patiently along, destined for Saturn

And my rocket soaring through the galaxy, determined to reach the moon

And there I am, anchored down in the middle

Two feet firmly planted in this space of sorts

Where I can stretch, 25% maybe, but I can never grasp either completely

Entirely

As they rush and flow and change

I can only give each a little.

It’s hard not to feel like my attempts are half-hearted

Because, trust me, I’d love to follow the rocket, seeing how high she can go

Just as I’d love to carefully hold the spaceship, to wrap her up with steel and wool

Yet these arms of mine are too short to swarm throughout the galaxy

Running after them both;

My arms must be stagnant.

Yet when my vessels need a break from those grand, old

Adventures they set out upon 

They have somewhere familiar to return to

I’ll always be grounded right here in the middle

Whether by lack of choice or 

Sheer necessity 

And so maybe nothing about this is half-done or half-as-good, despite how my 

Gaping flaws chatter,

Maybe the explorers have more room to see how far they can go

This way

And maybe this is just a new, patient kind of love

Fit for this uncharted territory 

Into space.



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