Venus

Death is coming and you must build a starship to take you to Venus. Make it from a catsup bottle, a flashlight coil, a penny, the cat’s bell, Mom’s charm bracelet. They say that planet is torment, whipped by circular wind, choked in vitriol clouds. But no. When you get there it is a light in the sky and I am with you. If you find nothing else, borrow the pleated wing of a winter moth, lighter than dust.