A picture of a galaxy.


Poem by Sage Clark ’23

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I need space, 
a place to escape, 
so I go to the stars.  

At least there,
It is quiet. 

The moment 
just before It becomes 
too much, 
a boiled over pot, 
I lend out a reaching hand 
to no-one
so i’m not surprised 
when it is no-one
who takes it. 

Thrown out, 
I am a wanderer
spectating my expiring dissolve.

Through a lens, 
I watch someone 
who looks too much
like myself
and out of reach from my head. 

I watch them eat 
with a mouth that can’t taste, 
look around with eyes 
listen with ears 

up here, 
on my perch, 
it is cold. 

I am 

forever reminiscent of a dream 

that I can never 

quite remember the colors of, 

just sure 

that the monsters 

whom await my return 

can’t yet reach me

way up here in the stars


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