Poem #2,775 | Spaceman

Every atonement –
is that a
truth of our Universe
[fixed
by other sizes over us?] –
In
your flotation chamber is a
lapping-up of gravity
[there
I nudged those edges of] –
I
am a spaceman set adrift &
then lost in your enormous
love –
Bump-bump on brim
of performed never-ending
stuff –
brine-sore in an hour
& then louder whale-songs
call in pre-formed wholes –
You’re a keeper of it all –
In
my meted time I drifted off
to shallow reaches
[stuck &
un-shoveable] –
all enough