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“The stars above us ask so little, despite our cells, coursing with their dust. To err is constant- someday, all the things we believe will seem ancient. Perhaps, we'll live more times than once. Eventually, we will all flee toward the coastline. The world we ignore most and understand least will call us back to give up our toenails for tails, cover our breasts with starfish and numinous scales. Tell me, how will a cellist sound beneath the sea?” — Michelle Peñaloza
The stars above us ask so little,
despite our cells,
coursing with their dust. To err is constant-
someday, all the things we believe will seem ancient.
Perhaps, we'll live more times than once.
Eventually, we will all flee toward the coastline.
The world we ignore most and understand least
will call us back to give up our toenails for tails,
cover our breasts with starfish and numinous scales.
Tell me, how will a cellist sound beneath the sea?