I ride it up,
This one-second-long white stair,
Leaving ears
That hear their own shred,
A tear in the air.
Being stressed, then
Relaxing in ruin.
Morning rose red,
Steaming, adorns
The footprint of Jupiters horns'
Grey-white blink. Now,
At half the speed of light
This jagged mover takes
The need to think.
Stolen, stare at the clouds.
I ride it up, to clearness,
Leaving my friends below to pass
Another night without stars.
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