no escape from this density
solar nebula dressed with
clouds; tread in silt and
damp and kissing,
every step toward
the core, the center, the
deep, more heated, liquid
nitrogen pressured to metal.
White ovals masking turbulent
atmospheres, the halo and the
gossamer ringing, the giant red
blemish undeniable, gravity,
gravity, gravity, pulling 63
satellites, those unintentional
victories, inescapable.
How could a mere mortal
hope to escape?
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