Universal Void Theory by Amber Renee Right now there’s a storm raging on a planet far away, one you’ll never see, can hardly imagine, wasn’t even a thought, until I said something. Right now there’s a galaxy larger than our own, & so much so ( as ) to be its very own containment necessary. Big. Far. So far so ( as ) that not even a telescope invented 100 years from now would be able to see it. Right now there's a universe held captive, & it bound by a corrupt current. //Buoying on the crest of a wave’s spiral arm-like galaxy. //One we don’t find ourselves inhabiting, not this lifetime anyway. //Oh phantastic deliverance! (rapid succession of longings & flesh like first consciousness stumbling in the dark before Shadow. A lit match strikes lumination.) All is well. It takes place out there on the other side of a wormhole where… (*) Colors through X-ray swim together; splashes on eternal darkness like a blip in some sea of voidness, texture like braille atop the scene; beautiful as )) ink stains the sharpest paper. A sight, I’ll tell you. (*) Hazy in the background are the monstrous planetary surfaces sleeping in semi-darkness, waiting to erupt their brilliant colors beautiful: screaming oranges and weeping wisps of deep purple,, , I bet. Have you heard of the ones who live here? Planet to planet, gliding effortlessly in-between. It’s a rainforest in its own regard. Dark & unknown, with species as of yet. //// I see them swimming by in the murky stretch between star, nebula, & those Entity Archetypes playing the part of matter or mass. They are colorful like planets, little mass-heavy soulfuls, ,, easy & putrid, soft & inevitable. //With hundreds of legs & thousands of arms.. They make no noise. They leave no mark, //their winding-like maze, mystery archetypal-universe (…) hiding static wave or dimension, stony black in the open. & in the open, a hidden treasure without being one. Just.. Right now.. Look up.. Look to the sky & know that if your eyes were that of a God’s, you could see this galaxy. It sleeps so far away. Has the English language invented a word for that kind of distance? Right now, look up. These are not just words. And although the imagery lives alone in my mind, the concept holds some kind of truth. Somewhere out there exists another solar system somewhere we haven’t yet discovered. (& maybe never will.) Right now, look up. Because some / thing may be looking down, & wondering about Life in further space. Some thing, some existence (out there) cannot imagine us, I bet. We are a tall-tale. We are storybook. We are their science-fiction. & with it, comes a sort of idle affliction. It’s called nonsense— & mostly it comes in waves. Some say GOD. //Me?? Well, I just say Love less, Hate less, Need less. For, what are we but just a grain of salt on the identical shore of a cosmic millenias? Love less, Hate less, Need less. For what are we but a stroke upon painted masterpiece, the ONE TRUE COLOR & essence. I just say Love less, Hate less, Need less. For, what are we but A single poem about imagery & aliens some girl on earth wrote, forged in breath & letter, when there’s an endless possibilities for Alpha & beta. Love less, Hate less, Need less. Look up.