Undressing night sky—
chamomile petals
orbit
the mud hut
Your metal womb
All our hopes, enough
sausage—to go with the moon
-shine
A return
to the honey
-scented galactic bosom
that nursed
this world’s peasant
heart
Weightlessness
feels nice Our hopes
Mother’s bra
Jam with tea
and petals—
Everything is swimming
Yuri Gagarin, 1934-1968
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 17, Issue 2.
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