I gather these traumas and spin them out into the night,
and, maybe, it doesn't matter that
a star burns away my toothache—cosmic disassociation.

My grandfather dies, and maybe a star can burn him away,
so it doesn't matter, though
I feel that black hole—it lingers while I disassociate.

A rock orbiting gas orbiting the gravity of everything,
and, maybe, it's too heavy, and still
the infinite shadow stretches.