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Writer's pictureDesiree Aquino

Space Dust

A channeling


I occupy a void in space where I feel you orbiting around me. Though not strong enough to pull you in, I sense the invisible atoms that connect us together no matter distance or time, like spidery whispery webs that stretch endlessly out from each of us. We speak a silent language. Clinging to the other body, the only other solidness we can find within millions and millions of miles. We rotate around each other in standard form, never growing closer nor moving further away. If we were again to collide, we would destroy our worlds, leaving only random shards to float in space forever. There is no birth without destruction. But that which is birthed is something new. Something untethered to either of us. Something that does not invite or need the chaos of our connection. A wholly new mass that forms its own bonds. It is better without us. We are better without each other.

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