aspirations (and compromise) by Estan Rodriguez (17, Virginia)

​time sinks
like everything else
in the gravity well
of my childhood bedroom.
i’m bound to the carpet
by a force
stifling
suffocating
extinguishing.

---

​a long exposure lens
captures photons
from unattainable Andromeda,
or salvages scraps of light
before they vanish
down the esophagus
of a ravenous black hole.

the stars in photographs whisper to me
across the impossible distance:
we’ll shine a path for you
as long as we live,
after we die,
and when we are reborn.

but jupiter leers at me
across the silent void:
even if the Earth
shrinks behind you
and you reach me,
you won’t be any closer
to the stars.
i pretend not to listen.

i’ll never climb the ladder’s rungs
from one to infinity.
it’s here i’ll stay
where the front door
is only a flight of stairs away.
i can leave when i’m ready.

i’ll fantasize about the cosmos
through a telescope.
i dream of standing 
on the celestial sphere
while sleeping soundly
on the carpet.