An orphan drifts through interstellar space
mountains rising on a world without days
exposed to dark imagination’s grace
blanketed in an atmospheric haze
light years from the last kiss of her lodestar
whispering ice gods keep the planet bound,
flick-lit by a giant passing pulsar,
its steady signal yearning to be found
archandroid presages a mystagogue
bearing a book of tales most luminous,
an Interior Castle analogue,
detailing a communion numinous
forgotten promises written in code
as her self-repairing circuits corrode

My first sonnet, posted for Gay’s excellent prompt: