The Low

Longing longs for longing
Is gravity’s message.
Where mass accumulates

(And can mass ever be
Anywhere randomly
Disregarding the curve?)

Mass pulls mass together
But greater mass outside
Its center splits it,

And so there’s the dance, spheres
And orbits, asteroids
So loosely glued a probe

Can scatter them apart,
Astronauts eating peas,
The crush of Earth’s embrace,

Toward one center or
Another but never
Anything at center

Other than how much mass
Has drawn close to center,
Nothing center itself.