Dark Room 

Poem - by Davian Aw

the moon

turning in orbit through the porthole

as the ship spins.

there are handholds for you

to hold on to

even when the spinning stops

and gravity's lie no longer captures your feet

and you float off the floor above the moon

so still so bright so far below

the constant light in a childhood window

inviting you down into its rock

with its seas upon which your mind may sail

away into the darkness and the dim

and the eternal quiet of the soul.