Love is a universe of sorts, in many ways two people can become galaxies on a collision course, their arms waiting to wrap and warp around each other, or one will be smaller and less bright hungering to be consumed by the supermassive heart at the center of its lover, or one lover is a comet; the other is a sun. the comet burns against the corona; it lets off a trail sweet and cooling, and against the sun it feels like the beginnings of a nova, the final cool-down and planet-consuming explosion of it's outer layers, but instead, the comet uses the sun's gravity to slingshot into deep space, and the sun screams in engulfing bursts of light as the comet trails off, leaving behind a dissipating gas trail in its wake, tugging less and less, forging an ice-road into eternity.