Photon.

Sure,
we were flying
in space (or was it
"floating", or
was it "falling"?).
Sure,
we thought
we knew what was meant by


"space"

   
          -even as the spectrum
           of mind
           gangbanged time
           impregnating the collision of particles,
           on and
           on,
           with particular textures
           seldom
           recognized as bright
           dreams, rainforest dewdrops
           &
           shooting stars, all
           feverish
           at the seams,
           giggling on the edge of
           a champagne lotus,
           staring back
           at the sun
           beams of crisp stripper
           sweat; ice
           at the bottom
           of a glass, melting
           into clouds upon lips upon lips upon
           dispersing
         


blue.

Sure,
we were flying
in space (or was it
"floating, or
 was it "falling without end"?).