Quasar


I want to die in space.
I want the last thing that I see
to be a sea of stars:
crashing waves of celestial bodies
welcoming me home.
I want to slip
into a black hole,
feel my body stretch
as I fall,
spaghettified and shining.

I am smaller than I
have ever been, here
where there is no wind
and land is a myth
and the sway and pull of the planets
put me together
and pull me apart.
I want a view
only the gods are given:
a whole blackness,
an intense state of relief.
I am so fragile
and so open
and so alive.

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