Sky of sky, sky of flight, sky of space, pressure and cold, sky without breath, sky of layers that we invade, our particles of What is that?
I want to say emptiness, but it is anything but, there are full clouds until they collide, the contradictions entwined in black night coming down
blackest and lilac space part of it open. That I am thankful for this lack of artificial light.
Circling sensations of being small, insignificant, breathing when I would like to hold my breath, tired of this work, not seeing anything but that above
anything worth seeing, anything worth sensing