there should
be a word for this

something holy –
sitting in the desert
you never wanted to visit,
the milky way open before you
like a well-thumbed book
never deciphered.

in a thousand nights
you’ll never see one like this,
and the beauty dislodges something
inside of you.

because entropy –
extincts all things. dust motes,
dark matter, dinosaur bones.
clocks in rocks and cells
all askew, light from long-dead stars.

is the spark-shower, the way the tidal
bulge stretches and smiles on its way
day after day after day, the stardust
splintered in the eye. all you want is

to gaze upon the glory
of precipice and power line, cringe
and grin whip-smart, callow fool, all
history clashing around the head,
neuronal flare against the gloom like
a shooting star.

but all that’s given
is dark upon dark, a streak of stubborn blue
unknowable, farther away than life itself. the crisp air
snarls the throat. you want to be bigger than you are,
but you can’t.

Zetetic separator

—Natasha George writes poetry in spite of and inspired by a busy life as a biology and earth science student. She is fascinated by the intersection of art and science, the quirks of language, and the bizarre intricacy of the natural world that frequently exceeds imagination. Besides writing poetry, she can be found writing speculative fiction about alien proteins, monster theory, fairy kidnappings, and whatever else catches her eye.

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