Out on the wire

Just wondering

What would you say if I asked.
Ever been out on the wire.
For as long as I can remember.
I’ve had these visions of our race.
On two hundred thousand different planets.
In twined in exotic dreamscapes.
Engaged at stations they’re modified forms at work assembling giant firing defilades.
Through night vision heads up display.
In trenched along a stripped mined gash with heaps of skeletal structures on the rim.
Between the cratered soot grey ditch lines.
You can see their cadavers lit.
Speckled under personal area array.
Are the desperate last acts.
Trying to be ID.
For R&R.
Often recounted as being reminiscent of lighting bugs swallowed by bristling electronic concrete teeth from the rise.
What I just described I know is just fantasy.
But I swear I’ve met others whose memories are wreaks like mine in shock every shake telling a similar story.
He said.
I don’t wanna go back you’ve seen it.
Maybe this life is our R&R.
So I said.
I don’t know maybe.
But what I wanted to say was.
26 is our current solar cycling this system to compete a full solar rotation.
Pulled in a firma terrain 24 hour swing.
Contractors are down for either 60, 100 or 190 rotations with a full life recovery & refit in a planet side setting.
Yep.
The days are getting longer & the decades are getting shorter.
Well it’s good to see you.
I’d love to stay & chat but it looks like I got to go do another run.
I’d say hit me up if you ever wanna pull a lift.
But we’ll never be here again.
Hey you never know.
When it’s over.
Maybe I’ll see you out on the rise this time.
But I just can’t do it.
It goes against my better judgment to act crazy.
So I leave it unsaid.
Pretend I don’t understand.
When it happens again.
If that even makes sense it’s not like anyone would ever tell me.