Monday, October 3, 2011

The Homebody Dreams of Home


She lumbers in the parking lot
Gazing at the space
Entranced by the stars
Engulfed by the vastness
Wondering if she’ll ever get the chance
To be with her beloved
Amidst the Milky Way

He blue skirt and floral blouse
Looking less disheveled than usual
As she staggers back to take in the emptiness
The black velvet wish she’s painted for herself
She remembers her first kiss
Among the heavens

It was thirty years ago,
Yet the vividity of the abduction
Still pulses her imagination
With excitement

Her first and only love
Not even human.
She became enrapt
With light
Being drawn toward the curiosity,
The prospect.
Like a puppy to a lake.
Not sure if they’ll drown,
Only knowing that exploration
Is mandatory.

She remembers, through a haze – a Ketamine-like blur
The view of herself
Above her.
The mysterious charts and graphs
Marking the major parts
Of the terrestrial, extra carefully.
The stars, perfectly dazzling
Formed sequences of once familiar shapes
Orion’s sword, she thought she saw
The Gemini twins, now wielded by her abductor,
Slices her clothes off.

Her eyes full of nothing but wonder
At her lucky circumstance.
The alien does not like this.

She see lights, once again, in the distance;
Though, the colors seem different.
She’s escorted to a car,
Where the men in suits
Tell her she’s diluted,
She’s fantasized this event.

All the while transfixed
On the empty space
Of her future home.