If you are a planet, I am a universe
He said to me, that I was "just using him to fill a hole in my life."
It's getting clearer and clearer to me that that is more true than I understood -
than I wanted to understand.
I think it would be dishonest to say that this is ever something that
will be completely eradicated.
I will always have interior spaces that exert their own gravitational pull.
I think this is true of most people, whether they are conscious of it or not.
I also think some of us have narrower margins between these spaces.
Interior landscapes scarred with more funnels in the sand than
swaths of uninterrupted beach.
We think more, crave more, strive for more -
and feel the loss of the unattainable more.
With higher understanding comes the potential for greater disappointment.
I said to him then, "I am full of holes."
My friend once said - "If you are a planet, I am a universe."
I want to see things, not entirely in terms of the former,
but with relation to the latter.
It's not possible for me to be nothing but a lack of things,
nothing but holes,
anymore than I can be made entirely as one thing, even
something as densely populated and various as a planet.
My self-concept longs for that identification - of the universal -
and yet is unwilling to accept it.
And yet I still want this:
I want to be made of everything, and nothing.
I am
an Asteroid - isolated fist of matter, punching through atmospheres,
cratering landscapes.
a Comet - ice heart hurtling through solar wind,
a dirty darkness propelled by the expansion of its interior;
unreflective,
scarring the sky with every passage
I want to be
a Star - the grasp and burning rage of plasma that
communicates itself through time and distance to
transmute as unbodied and night-visible;
death translated into light
a Nebulae - absorbing, reflecting, creating light -
recombining net positives and negatives -
the dust fabric from which stars are sewn.
a Quasar - The brightest light powered by the darkest center.
Living at the greatest distance.
Radiating loose definitions .
I want to know that I can stop devouring soon.
I want to know that soon, I can
burn clear of this;
soon be born into
I want to become
a Galaxy.
the pas de deux of expansion and collapse
the performance art piece in the Opera House
Spiraled center surrounded by the sweep of
self-contained planets, each separate; finite
an archipelago inside an estuary.
I am made up of so much of which I understand so little.
Everything and nothing.
In all things in between.
Aug. 26th, 2010 , by DLM
From the archives, for #PoemsAbout #Stardust
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Full Disclosure: It's got a /bit/ of a long intro.*
*HUGE
If You Are a Planet, I Am a Universe
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