Dust Speck

Written in December '23

a hundred words, a thousand maybe,

probably closer to several thousand honestly,

into the tens of thousands truly…

all that ink, all that paper…

still nothing quells the what-ifs

and what-might-have-beens

not the romantic losses mind you,

but the much, much deeper one…

satisfying the prime directive,

but the results of it

never see the light of day

and the comfort of the divine

can’t alleviate it, giving and

taking away at will…

what’s the difference between

being there and not?

the ones that aren’t his build

their paper marble coasters

and code their robots to move,

oblivious, unaware, blissfully

living their best lives within the

walls of the indoctrination center

can you make it to the

prime of your life again,

his passenger asks him

he’s made it this far, thus far

persistence is pointless,

because the stardust remains

neither created nor destroyed

said the dust speck,

said the dust speck indeed