Galaxies separate our hearts
but space is nothing except vortexes
and atoms and planets and black holes.
When you look at me with the weight
of a thousand dying stars burning like fuel
in your eyes, carving lines into your mouth,
the universe folds and all that separates us
is us. (Original Post)
Welts form where we touch -
all this momentum hurtling us forward,
like avalanches meeting in the crevice between two mountains,
colliding, mushrooming up and out and over.
I am molten where you are ice, soft where you are unrelenting.
The galaxies were saving us, we are corrosive, we are
the storms ravaging continents to smite one small person -
we are more destructive than loving.