Cosmic
Pass me the planets spinning on your tongue.
I have seen
galaxies
burst
into existence,
burning towers of stars
crashing
through dirt-floor blackness
and up
into the arms
of a purple sky,
exultant.
And I
have seen them
just as swiftly wither
and die,
nebulous rings
of moonshine glory
crumbling,
limp like ribbons
dropped
from absent fingertips,
to shatter in quick-silver
bits,
each their own
broken-glass
multiverse,
limitless.
All this,
swirling,
in the widening maw
of your pupils,
black nets cast
to steal my breath
and suck me soulless
into the depths
of you,
hungry
for the touch
of your mind's
creation,
the brush
of the universe
hiding
in the line
between your lips.
Pass me the planets
spinning
on your tongue,
and I will melt them
in the blue fire
heat
of my own
sun.
About the Creator
Teyana Jackson
An aspiring writer and poet currently living on the East Coast. More work can be found on allpoetry.com, thebluenib.com, and in the poetry anthologies "Circular Whispers" and "Seasonal Perspective"
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