Could the cosmic swirls of Jupiter be found between my thighs? Every sparkling ribbon finds its way into my stomach (to poison me and let me rot, instead of blackening my lungs). The weight pulls me down, suffocating me—I melt into its core. Will the icy winds slice lies into my skin? This is not my home. Trapped on a planet with no hope for return, I collapse into myself and swallow every last toxin found in the freezing air.
