Noble belly sporting a splintered ceramic shield, she waits. Soon, one last blaze will dislocate her. Atlantis will ride a million tons of reverse eruption, a pyroclastic flower taking her high, taking her to the place that will never be home. Her crews’ faces scrunching in a force like the pull of three Earths all trying to keep them home where once we dribbled from the trees. She will watch a world fall away, and then come back, the end of an era when we sometimes shed the terrestrial, when we saw the universe true, when we divined the Divine.