we are all just infinitesimal souls
stagnant; utterly still
in a plane of
nothingness and everythingness
and like Newton's First Law of Motion states
we will only continue
unmoving
yet
all we need is an unbalanced force
strong and relentless as gravity
that'll send us careening
back into our own bodies
we're all waiting for
someone, something
to bring us back home

this imbalance
is the very force that keeps the blood
thrumming in our veins
and roaring in our ears,
allows for jolts of electricity
to run down our spine and spark
at the pads of our fingers; we are
the brilliance of dying stars,
contained and bound to a mortal vessel

our hearts are pulsing, pulsing
erratically
to the rhythm of the songs that stars sing
and i hear the music resonating,
bone-vibrating and teeth-chattering,
and when we can all hum the melody
that the universe plays,
sear it and engrave it into our minds,
seven billion hearts
will (finally) beat as one

we are
caged beasts

we are
supernovas in the making
(wherein we can only burn bright and then brighter
until one day
we will return to the stars)


but at the very least, now,

we are
*alive