Anti-grav

Gravity is a bitch.

He is a tyrant,

deigning to dictate where my foot should fall,

and how hard, and that it should at all.

I dream of a world free—

of particles splintering off into the chaotic dark;

of vessels propelled into entropy by engines internal,

nothing but circuits and whims and momentum to guide the way.

I dream of a life lived unburdened by atmosphere,

just a speck hurtling through the forever night

and no insulator to prevent its burning.

In my dreams, I begin and end in flame,

gleeful, elemental, and without shame.