we learn of
celestial bodies in
science,

and i touch
what is
considered

forbidden
knowledge about
the stars;

the longing of
the supernova
to cover as

much of
the blackness
as it can in

a moment
of explosive
intensity. write

me a song on
the blackboard
in health class

comparing your
nature to the
onslaught of

solar winds,
atmospheric
pressure on my

lungs, and
the force of
gravity you

inflict
upon the
bearer of flowers.

tug and pull
celestial seeds
floating in

its own beaker.
attack me.
force me to

answer and
make me
want more.

ignore my
protest and eat
up the blank

space with
smeared
fingerprints and

crude words
about my lust in
the dark

and how
the night sky
swallowed me

whole.