Space

Flying in space
Suspended in its grace
Intangible by taste
Touch or any other sense
No rules from upper class
No concessions
In relations, no tears
In the lacrimal branch
No money in banks
No tax to make us slaves
Silence
Peace
Perpetual sleep
Casting dreams
Of fire that has ceased
On humans loving
Their living and peers
My eyes under the lids
Throwing REM fits
In the universe so vast
With no air for the lungs and
No heart pumping the blood