Dips

The Earth rotates at a speed of 1,037 miles per hour;
our sprinting is like marching through an ocean of molasses
for a world never ceasing in movement.

Our changes feel sudden
when so comfortable floating in stagnant waves
and pulling on worn-out boots.

But our changes happen so fast
in context with Earth’s orbit around the sun.

The hour we spent dancing under the full moon —
tee shirt-clad and glowing —
was merely a blink of an eye to Earth’s revolution.

Our neurons, like Earth,
move quickly,
making sense of each situation
before we have a chance to consider what is happening.

I wonder if that’s where my dips come from,
not the dips in my hips
with their violin shape,
but the mental dips.

When the darkness consumes like a black hole,
inhibiting the warmth, the joy;
taking away the shimmering;
and leaving a blank landscape.

Maybe my brain knows more
than it lets on,
gathering information
as fast as the Earth spins on its axis.

Overnight {Part 1 & 2}

Overnight
My pillow turned into a body,
warm against my fingertips but
void of substance.

I held them close,
thinking of lightning and its pure
electrical power surging from the skies.

I wrinkled their imaginary shirt
and reddened the figurative skin below
as I held on tighter.

Without the means to speak,
they made no complaints.

I tossed in bed while images of
white light flashed across my eyes,
blindingly beautiful.

Overnight
their body turned into a pillow,
soft against my cheek.

It smelled of pine and eucalyptus,
bringing back memories of weekend trips
and dusty back roads.

I considered the shifting continental plate below me
as I pondered the existence of places I hold dear.
Will they all disappear one day,
engulfed in lava?

I tossed throughout the night,
disturbed by the nightmares that reminded me of you.

Sunlight danced with the dust in my room
as I slowly woke to find my pillow,
case-less,
on the floor near the door.

Sky (or Little Blue Girl)

Sky received a grave responsibility at a very young age. She, the Soul Keeping Yearling (or Sky, for short), was the youngest of generations of beings tasked with protecting the human race. For eons, her family cared for the lowly beings, understanding the overwhelming importance of their job. Sky block out the dangerous, dark, expansive galaxy that lied outside of Earth’s atmosphere. Her blue-radiance disfigured the troublesome space and brought joy to the meek humans. She recognized the severity of her job and eagerly did it every day. Luckily, she had friends to keep her company; Rocky played with her when the humans slept, Beam exaggerated her magnificent color during their days, and Nimb gave her shelter when ailing.
Sky loved every century of her job; alas, she grew old. More and more frequently, Nimb invited his cousins, the Thundersons, to protect the humans while Sky recovered from increasing conditions. It was time for Sky to step down from the position. She protected the life-forms below for so long, even when they threatened her with rockets, probed at her secrets, and tried to capture her essence. Sky, weakened, gracefully faded away under the cover of Rocky, allowing the new protector to take her place.