100 million tons.
That’s the mass of a sugarcube-sized pinch
of neutron star. Once all the gasses have condensed,
climbed the periodic table, collapsed in
upon each other, like some taxi-cab
flirters that can no longer resist…

I imagine it set on the floor,
like the old lost penny trick,
except this little thing is not glued,
it’s simply– unliftable. I envision it
sticking just from its own absurd density–
or maybe it doesn’t stick– maybe it falls
straight through, being so dense, so heavy–
falls through the hardwood, through
the foundation slab, through the ground
beneath, falls through just as if the Earth
were cloud- its atoms so loose,
so far apart, before the falling in.

Or maybe it does not fall through.
Maybe, the Earth falls instead into it–
drawn by the gravitational pull of its
irresistible mass. I see mountains, oceans,
skies, cities (taxicabs included) diving
into this little cube which I only thought
to give you, like a penny,
for good luck.

I’m thinking about this little gift for you…
Let’s say a sugarcube is a square centimeter.
That’s 1,000 cubic millimeters.
100 million tons/1,000 cubic millimeters = 100,000 tons/ mm3.
Too heavy. A cube that is a tenth of a millimeter per side
would then weigh 100 tons. Still too heavy.
A cube that is a hundredth of a millimeter
(10 micrometers per side, now quite invisible)
would then weigh a tenth of a ton- 200 pounds.
Down another tenth (one cubic micrometer) and now
we’re at something you can wear- 0.2 pounds, 3.2 ounces.

We’ll lose whatever color it has, with a cube so small.
That seems tolerable– since the color is a mystery.
I have prepared two lockets, each with a little
speck of star. They’re symbolic, like all
such gifts. But as we lean forward towards each
other, as we condense, we will be able to feel
that weight, to sense it in our shoulders and
our brows, as we collapse closer, closer, closer,
taxi driver and his roving eyes be damned…