Astral Travelers

Some astral jumpers land inside their flying suits like skydiving parachutists, others are thrown naked into places where thoughts are fig leaves. Then they shoot off like toothpaste from a tube dragging bodies behind them as afterthoughts; bubblegum minds chewing distance and time. Their infinite star-charts are parochial, they map the contours of neighborhood blocks, trace the four corners of circles, stroll in the park in the radiant dark. Mind voyeurs all who travel nocturnally and vicariously, folks who can’t stay asleep in their own skins. Some of their exploits may be read at supermarket checkouts, or as tales told to the forever grounded. Those body flyers and nightly roamers who ask only that the stars weave more ways for them to go.