Like a post-nova lament
etched in black;
the debris of an age
blotting out and killing a light
that even when raged against,
Reaching like a reaper across stars,
replacing all that was beautiful in a man's known world
with the absense of light,
casting into shadow an entity that knows not
how to stop orbiting her wake...
I hold to the only trajectory
my heart has ever known.
Spinning in darkness,
Spiraling in decay.
Surrounded by the remnants
of a supernova of proportions
that no star could ever hope to achieve.
Had it been corporeal,
the splitting of our souls would surely have
shredded space and time.
But this death and destruction
was contained within my chest
where I will keep it.
Every ashen shred I find.
Every piece of you and I
that used to be called us.
I'll be here hoping that one day the universe remembers
how things were supposed to be.
How gravity should catch and cradle this cloud
and one day, even if every shred is dead,
I might hold you