Dusted bolls of faded light
Fluorescent beacon shines
Scrolling my messages in microwave
From my satellite
Then the line starts to crackle
And distance is all that is clear
The question is open-ended
And the reason slowly disappears
You’re my satellite
Just called to check back one more time
Snowflakes tumble from the sky
I’m always up here for you to find
On my satellite

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