satellite telephotolens

ant arc tic a
Originally uploaded by amnesoid

Sick and cold and unglobed. Flat maps make polars places look so large, like my ceiling. My head aches so i take a pill my stomach burns so i take another i bet a mouthful of snow would fix it all, ten thousand years old and untouched by the Sun, Oh photons.

I will pack a seedling. I will whisper affirmations. Grow, little hero, right out the top of my backpacks, oh. I will crack the ground at the southern axis of the spinning wide world and i will be your father. You will die in three hours time, a trinity of that slow and knowing look.

Cryogenically, you will have a chance someday.

The definition of 'frozen' will be greener til then, goodnight my child.