COS-mos

Mar 22, 2010 01:04

COS-mos
Into the whisper of open deep, between the wisp and stalk of light, twisting pulling pushing waning. Wander singing light and weeping dark, clouds of golden immolation reaching into eternal sight. In the cerelean eye, on the horizon's curve, leaning into the deepest embrace.

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A musing on space from the glory of earth-scape.
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