You are not alone.
You only think you are.
Dust particles tossed around like hearts for the breaking.
And we are dust in the maelstrom of a chaotic universe
that tries to love itself and fails.
Sometimes a particle dances with another, before
invisible currents through empty space take us away from each other.
I am spinning recklessly through a void of my own making.
Looking for connection in opposing magnetic fields,
wondering why the other specks are repelled by me.
Surely it’s me, something lonely in me that churns the frenzied storming winds,
flinging the closest dust into the darkness.
I lost my ship when I drifted
and there’s only the slimmest chance a random current will sweep me up again
and twirl me around another heart that’s breaking.
I take solace thinking of you, you wild speck of paint
dancing through the universe.
Dreaming of me, and you don’t even know it.
Can you sense me? Whoever you are?
We are not alone.
We only think we are.
About the Creator
Jordan Trippeer
Jordan writes about the human capacity for great struggle and even greater triumph. Her work has been lauded for its “fascinating, flawed characters, immersive world building, and mischievous originality.” Bio at jordantrippeer.com
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The Hatchling
The early morning chill had stiffened the thin bones in the membranes of her wings. Gthera opened her eyes and watched herself stretch and retract, stretch and retract, the left wing. Toward the sky and back to her side. Willing sensation into it again. The scales along her translucent folds were just beginning to go indigo; winter would soon come to the valley.
By Jordan Trippeer2 years ago in Fiction
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