surely—as the world
has been turning,
we too have been cooking-
up our own ways
of spinning:
wandering out
from our center
in increasingly wider ellipses
and screwing
our flushed faces upward
toward heaven—
not to discern
whether such a thing
exists,
but rather, to repeat
the pageantry
of our looking
in the hope we might
someday internalize
the feeling.
