A wistful sadness about all of the richness of life around me
As if every molecule is a sunlight-drenched cherry blossom
distilled into its own ethereal cognac
We float like test pilot trainees at the top of the parabola
The acceleration of weightlessness sets in
Bonds freed of the net effect of gravitation
loosen and become detuned
What remembered flowers are these
from the time before
the thing that is about to happen
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