A World That Never Fades into Mine

In this poem, I am the call,
and you are the response,

when the sharp screams of the society pierce our hearts
like the missiles hovering above the city

—rain without dark skies, etch my name on your heart
and let it fade into the manual guide

that tells you how to dodge cascading shrapnel
and mountains of debris.

Yuri Gagarin teaches you how to fly a spacecraft, you’d still remain adrift
in a world that never fades into mine.

Day fades into night, and night into day,
but it seems our hearts have so much in common

that they repel each other like magnets with like ends
—uploading a vacuum of air that keeps out the intimacy.

So when my call orbits down to your world,
send your response to me back in an asteroid.