By | 1 August 2018

I wish upon this not star

– this chemical spill of interstellar death -

that I will be able to spirit these dead things I carry

these heaviest in my heart dead things

away from me and

catapult them into the outermost reaches of space

so they can suffocate

so they can freeze


a million memories of you and I and us and ours

can burst into smithereens and finally die

and not have to wane with the everlasting ache

of an infinity of love lost

our life lost

and each particle in a globular cluster of hurt so proud

can be left to wander off

to tumble themselves away

and try to know themselves again


and from nothing

a fire will strike

a star will ignite

and something new will live

and not know what had to die

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