LONG INTO THE NIGHT

Long into the night, I drift in and out 
of a fog, with numbers 
whirling around my head,
with clouds hovering in the darkness,
with zeroes 
made up of nothing but air,

with stars floating on the edge 
of an indigo ocean.

If I had a rocket ship, 
I would search those stars out

and then make a map 
and mark their exact location, 

so others could then plot a course 
and find me there,
an astronaut, 
a kind of sailor, unmoored .