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I am but a lighthouse. Not a beacon of light but a warning, to steer clear, lest we collide.
I am but a pulsar. A star with no more fuel, my core collapsed under its own weight, crushing every positive and negative into a neutral amalgam, unfeeling.
My head spins, emitting radio waves, broadcasting but a single message: help.
Would the upthrust cause rust? Buoyant bliss but a near miss; an object in free-fall feels no weight
0051 Launches
Part of the Life collection
Published on December 02, 2021
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