Well shoot. From a gun,
from a barrel into the sun
my body is a lead slug twisting,
trying to screw into the sky -
but momentum is spent.
I want to go where it went,
but instead I fall and fail
and tumble, dented and scored
by the tunnel I passed through
only once, never more
and the distance grows so close
and clear
and speed takes on
new meaning, dear
as grounds rush up
and I rush down,
I blink
you'll never find me now
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