My heart, the very center of my being, has been locked away,
thrown carelessly into the expanse of space I hold so very dear,
locked inside a glass jar, a glass jar full of embalming fluid and Earl Grey,
to hold me inside, to contain me, to comfort me,
as I float away, as I watch the stars from inside my glass prison, my chosen media for viewing the galaxies that held me alive,
as I die among my hearts,
among the stars, each one another poet,
freefalling.