Swirling universes stored in bottles,
the shelf sits dusty and undisturbed,
greasy smears of fingerprints,
on unidentified labels.

Shattered glass upon the floor,
where supernovas threw them,
illustrations of life and death,
contents evaporated, no trace.

I reach and pick one up,
like a snow globe, I turn it over,
the stars turn to comets, with glowing tails,
an entire existence turned upside down.