What if
in every black hole,
created by loneliness
and forgotten words,
lies a galaxy
created all its own —
remnants of the implosion
scar the beauty
but will
remain a perfect
imperfection
of the new creation;
from what was believed
to be nothing emerges
everything.

Structured by the hands
of a god,
a perfect tracing of
what is needed --
survival is not an option.

Lose yourself in me.