Sole Of My Shoe, No Soul Of My Body Poem by orangecat bluebandanna

with gravity filling, holding space to the surface of our skins, each
pore it seeps in, through our blood cells and organs, all pulling our
sub-conscience towards the moons and other planets to the stars,
controlling every breath and thought rev elated to someone, in here or
out there.
we stare to the sky, ponder. try to break for a wish on
a dead star, talk to the galaxy through
radar or sonar or prayer.
We may not exist at all and only part of a dream of a rodent building a
nest in homes
hidden in the walls or floors or in some drains.
we are attached through our thoughts like we are attached to
the thought of the rodent hidden from us