100619

Conveyance

This ship never leaped up into space,

neither does she land,

her belly’s kissed only by stray ions,

and by pinpricks microscopic.

Inside her, people swarm,

parasites injected through her built-in wounds,

they grow til emigrating,

to a warm and weighty sphere.

She looks down,

maps their works,

sees them breed,

spread across the land.

Her empty body in its lonely orbit,

shining in the night,

she receives few visitors.

Finally,

                her lights go out