you have no blood

An archive of the future, collected and curated.

On The First Interstellar Exodus

[Poem by Grety Nibeo]

A captain watches
passing harsh orange
Arcturus, her shift
near over, cargo sleeping

—we are strangers
our days
on earth are shadows—

The ghosts of flowers
on an ancient ruined Earth
impel them gently,
old delicate garland

Persephone looked
back as flowers tumbled from
her breast, a starship 
past a foreign sun