the nucleic heart of the milky way a red spectacle in the eyes of jupiter and i am everywhere, anywhere but in my seat abruptly my self importance is shattered by a grounding blink the bell-like ring of a fork against ceramic and the clinging faux leather of my seat have i forgotten? our cups, overflowing with nourishing droplets squeezed from hours of uncertainty and the cool blue of mid-afternoon shadow our baskets, filled with the fruits of our labor cultivated through years of sunlight and the ashen scorn of cloudy skies a glance across the table at an orange juice smile and the rind of my conjecture peeled back to reveal something sweet
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