Vessel:Morticia:Loc:Crossing-Centauri-Gulf
Ledger:Captain’s-Poetic-Communication-Allocation#23

++So you talk to me of comfort/my friend
and darkness/well I’ve this- –
if the endlessness of our darksky
were placed against them/I
would mark it as a grain of dust
hanging in a beam of sunlight
on a summerday’s comfort/
gleaming ironmetal to its rust++
+++++++++++++++++++++
They are as darkness to me/how it flies
curving out at equal speed to light
as we lie together sweating sparks of touch- –
they are my eclipse/my thunderstorm
my oceandeep gloom, my envelope++
They are the stranger standing in the room
who disappears on waking++
They are my dark/they are my gloaming ++
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
They are not sound/but silence/after chatter
shook violentwise the eardrum and composed
a mindset to accept the wind and void++
They are not caress/ but lack of touch
on a breathless day under unfeeling sun
when all the cares of space burn into my skin
in noise and fury++You see//
+++++++++++++++++++
You grade things wrong when you throw this out::
We measure all things, and give them measure++
It might be right to prefer the finale/and doom
To the end of the connection/holding in storm
The weatherfront of myself and them++
They are my welcome gloom++