Exoplanet II: Void
The Contortionist
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We long to feel our bodies outside centrifugal conditions
An orderly solar system will outlast this guiding center system
As we leave our galaxy, every certainty abandoned
The referential lawns of man are lost, nothing is relative
Cold and empty space surrounds and swells
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Time is moving at invariable speeds and our instruments are useless
Oscillating obsession, beautiful apparatus
These cycles put my mind at ease
Bodies cannot sustain what this was built for
The body cannot sustain what this was built for
We worship oscillation, no other way