Green, gray, brown, blue, white,
hues of earth and sky in flight.
Perennial spin,
without any gin.
Drunk off gravity.
Space is the place to face all
you gotta face.
You got a face – read it,
and weep,
at least once in a blue moon.
Get the salt out of your system
and make sure it precipitates that
water cycle.
Like a washer, that spin
gives the congealed dust of your bones
a clean sheen.