There's a sensation of
floating
here,
diamonds
rushing past
the corners of our faces.
Space is only
the distance
between
two orbiting
bodies,
two objects who
obsessively
tug and pull
on each other
because no one else is around.
I see
gemstones around me,
fortunes
in
mineral materiality
wasting beside us.
We
do not waste
in this space,
we may
only grow,
age,
harden
but gleam
due to the
molten hot
pressure of
countless hands
touching
pushing
grabbing
stroking
pinching
prodding us,
stealing and
plotting
though they pet us
nicely, now.
We
haven't slept,
the diamonds
shine like
miniature suns,
being pulled towards the
immense contraction
of our
tentative
super
massive
black holes.
White blocks
emit light
from below,
the source of the
glow.
Night sets in,
the stars would be out
but
there are stars within.
After the glow
comes the afterglow,
permeating
all and
floating through
everything,
lifting the
pearls and
diamonds
from our necks and
our bodies,
stringing them
back into
space.
No one
cares
about what will become
of them,
as space is
the true richness,
the attraction between bodies,
the tug and pull
of heavenly objects.
Let the hands
invade you,
ravage your riches
and your minerals;
regardless of them
or their
ruthlessness
you will still glow,
you will still glow.