We’ve reached an impasse

…a cliff, you and I.

Most paradoxical,

frustrating riddles,

these flawed calculi.

Are we made of stars?

The bone dust of space?

Hypothetical case:

What if I hugged you

so hard you turned blue?

Then from blue to black

as your Soul collapsed.

Like a star, a Black Hole,

Crushed by my Love,

Once it shone, Black Soul,

Through your wormhole,

I’m gone.

© CGT, 2017.

Talk to me.