Wednesday, November 9, 2022


Maybe, our love 
was not a gift
made for us.

Maybe it doesn't function
like a service 
or product, but 

more like a process—
like nuclear fusion 
in the sun,

where everywhere 
you looked, you'd see tons 
of doomed couples 

breathlessly speeding 
toward one another, 

colliding and expiring, 
to create 
something rarer,

something heavier 
and just a little bit more 
precious than they were—

not to mention, 
a tiny fraction of heat 
and of light 

which might make 
the lives of some
billions of others 

far, far away from there 
a little more