Astronomy

There are two trillion galaxies in the observable universe.

Here I am, in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way galaxy.

There are thousands of poems that tell me that I am made of stardust.

They write that I am made from the diamonds set into the soft velvet black of the night sky.

That these gentle, shimmering things live in me.

 

Here I am, in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way galaxy but I am not made of those kinds of stars.

 

I do not twinkle but rage,

ancient, almost immortal,

hungry worlds unto their own that light up the proverbial darkness that was and will be.

I do not glow but am set aflame.

A trillion safety flares into an unfeeling universe to warn everything that lives that

I am here,

breathing and burning.

From ashes to ashes I will become the girl I am from the graves of these long dead celestial gods.

 

Here I am in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way galaxy but I am not made of those kinds of stars.

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