My Sexual Self at Age Sixty

Like a rogue planet passing occasionally into view
most of the time I drift through interstellar space
in a cold vacuum of inconspicuity, surrounded by
frozen asteroids & traces of interstellar debris.

Sometimes, however,
a random passing body produces
a faint nudge — over time, such events shift orbits
& eventually I start a six-billion kilometre descent
towards my solar center.

Somewhere around the inner planets
my body heats up & vapours arise.

At the height of passion
I become incandescent —
a celestial sperm whose tail is elongated
rushing blindly along a path
with only two possible outcomes:
impact or repetition.

Wil this time be another fleeting close encounter?

Heading towards the outskirts of oblivion,
I cool down while moving past Jovian gas giants.

Entering a world where the calmness is near perfect,
amidst frozen ice, methane, & mostly empty space,
I become once again coolly indifferent —
almost forgetting how I
am linked to a four-billion year old cycle
& when it comes to gravity
all of us
are easily swayed
.

Miok:

Hmm. This dude seems so utterly isolated.

Chris:

Yeah. I would guess he’s afraid of close encounters of any kind.

Tim:

Well, human closeness is seldom easy. All of us bear the scars of former collisions.
It’s amazing that most of us manage to function as well as we do.

Cantara:

Hey, which would you rather be — stuck way out in the frozen Kuiper belt
or risking collision to obtain closeness and warmth?

Miok:

Isn’t moderation possible? Is it really necessary to go to extremes?