as I was telling her
she looked away
I followed her gaze
to a blank wall with a spider crawling up along the seam
she doesn't want my job
I can tell she doesn't want my job
tracking micrometeoroids or bathing in atomic oxygen,
following molecules or sifting through moon dust
she'd rather rub elbows with humans
and have lunch, leaving anovas
or novas to the ones sequestered
in their offices with the door
mostly closed, orange ear plugs
in place, that would be me.
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