The highest note
On the piano
Stings my skin
And awakens my bones.
I imagine it’s the sound
A star makes
When it bursts
In order to be born again.
The galaxy will turn white
As the notes on a piano
And fragments of black
Will be left over.
The burst may be scary,
But the true fear comes
With the black left over.
And it’s far too late
To prepare for it.
Because all we worry about,
Is the burst of a star.