That sound force that keeps us bound
To agreeable ground does so by being
In graceful balance with that centrifugal opposite
That would have us fly away to meet
In some grand collision
Where we’d greet each other and say hello
Before bouncing back to our small place
To momentarily rest
At gravity’s sweet breast
Before bouncing back out again
In constant percussive brain bashing rhythm
In tune to the dance of the stars.


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