A Neotribal Einstein Cross

We tried to tattoo the stars.

Tried connecting the dots of universal light
     into next-level constellations for a distracted generation.

We drew droplets of red-shifted blood
     from the midnight sky using the cleanest needles in the Milky Way.

Now we wonder if it was a mistake
     for us to decorate the cosmos
     after our own whims
     and such cursory research?

What if that line there is wrong
     and we should have instead connected
     Sirius to Vega?

Damn it, we’ve never been the types to sit too comfortably with permanence.

Always been the types to wonder what the hell we’ve done
     and just what the hell were we thinking.

A Neotribal Einstein Cross

Sock it to me

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