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I am a distant star
so distant that I am actually not a star
but somehow a galaxy

A forgotten galaxy
with so much more
to my light that one point

Poetry tries to find me
Poetry is Voyager

Someday it will find me
Lost within a new wordscape
cold and distant.

I am just waiting for that day.
I miss the way words coiled around my tongue
the way poetry felt like home

Poetry cannot bring me home
like Voyager cannot move galaxies

It instead is a reminder
that perhaps I am already home

That home is not a physical place
much like the stars in a galaxy
can look like just a point in space.

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