They slither here
through buoyant reservoirs
and land in gravity.

There are clamorous insults:
cold vapors, riotous clatter,
slapdash handling.

They gaze smack into the eye
of a wild universe, startle us
with shrill alien sounds.

They practice daily: breathe cold and dry,
crawl through borders, unclog portholes,
taste everything once.

They long for the inside of a mother.
They brood. How is everything
to be created from nothing?

They learn the feeling of being held,
the feeling of being let down
into the container with bars.

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