Point Blank
Depending on the tides
We've searched worlds with fixed eyes in positions
Serious with concern and a sense of times
Scoured for meaning, the frontier of being
What’s intended to be?
We've missed by the narrowest of margins,
thirsted for new grounds higher and expanding
neither one nor the other
but within the remote
pushing past the middle, exposed
We've confronted face to face with patience
and appreciated star-gazing, on this plane
The entire fullness of the nothingness.
Point blank.
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