There’s us and the spaceship
towards destination unknown.

Planetary motion stops
as the chamber in you
thumps with the rhythm
of the marching band–
sometimes slow
sometimes fast
feet pattering away
in laze or excitement.
Either way
they command attention
in excess
resounding echoes.

(and the chamber in me
with a choir would hum along)

Maybe the rhythm
is (could be) an ode
to our quiet little world–
the one carved out of
plastic stars
beneath an orange blanket glow,
a niche nestled in the universe
that glows bright
as it (music) continues.
An anthem
a song to sing
two beating hearts
for one.

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