How far would I have to fly before I started missing
Earth, deep brown pull of its soil, finite curve
of its edges? Tossed into sky, the heart empties itself
of gravity, no space in space for clutter, the weight
of words where nothing is heavy. If I could float
untethered, I would never return, this planet, a pearl
in an oyster world, shiny with dirt; this longing
a need to disappear, to fall away like a star.