Holograms
We might be inconsequential,
but every fragment of us
contains the whole.
Every atom of our lives
holds a universe.
You and I
have always matched:
our eyes the same color,
our origins identical.
We came from nothing.
We stole everything,
and we refuse to leave.
This poem now appears in the book
Meteor Mags: Permanent Crescent and Other Tales.
Mars Will Send No More 