this whole time, we've been
doing it wrong:
searching for life's metabolites
in the frozen oceans
of Jupiter's moons
when, in truth, it exists
in its purest form
in the flame of our mistakes.
Our small losses
coalesce, and the travesty
gains mass
til it condenses
and falls down
and puddles like rain
in the rock-hard layers
of our recalled before-
and-afters.
In fact, so rich is this
vein that exists
beneath our feet
that to claim we
could sort it
and give it a name
would defy the very
meaning of our drive
to explain.
