We hoped that the planet would not evolve into an uninhabitable desert. And that we would be able to look in our mirror and see a reflection that would not force us to turn our gaze away.

Even if few still take utopias literally, we have every reason to "bet" on "that-which-does-not-exist-yet". Everything remains open, not only for the world but for us as well. Perhaps the "corpse of hope" is not as dead as it seems. The vanished appears to be "always-there". Or rather somewhere nearby. It may even be less far away than we think.

In any case, "this is your world. This is called a world." And yet, we cannot help but wonder: "Is all of this / happening in a laboratory? / Under a lamp during the day / and myriad others at night? Are we experimental generations?"