To Die a Brilliant Star
My dreams are too quick;
they escape me, like
fireflies from the net.
But I must dream of you;
I wake each morning
the whole of me humming,
tuned to an alien frequency,
and singing along to
sweet music, just
out of reach.
My skin, a suddenly
volatile element,
as if one small touch
could shatter this
fragile existence;
a Supernova explosion,
shooting my atoms
back to the sun. Oh,
what stories they'd tell
on their way:
to have lived,
and to die
such a brilliant star.
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