Day 41: Atmos Sphaira

Black is blazed

Index my life

Turn towards nothing.

New rose-faded golden

Celestial space melts retina

Still after

I see pink spots

Burnt onto nerve endings

Visible fire

Still feel

Heat

Still touched by

Glow.

Seasons shift her cousin moon

Back and forth, back and forth,

Waxing and waning

But you never cool

Changing // hot to trace

Putrid perfumed gases spin off as corona,

Chaotic carbon

Reduced to ashes

Even the sun shields her eyes

From such zodiacal light

Bouncing off into eternal darkness,

Forbidden lines

Torment our life source

Imprison such ironmonger

Oblate

Or is this its wreath, a garland,

Sunlit dust hot and unyielding

Scorching sun’s hot-tempered brow

A gaseous crown

Never extinguished

Never broken.

Sun corona of August 20 1905 taken with 40 foot camera

 

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