one day i will
go searching
for the empty keys
and dew-damp stars
that have greeted me
every morning
for as long as I
can remember –
but they
will be gone.
they will have been
consumed
by a supernova
that burst
twenty-six million
light-years away
and there will be
no cracked asphalt
left
no pavement arrows
to point me home –
point me home
and let me tie my heart
back into familiar
anxious knots.
there will be no home
anymore.
there will be nothing
left in my chest
for i will be nothing more
than a charred
skeleton –
i will be nothing more
than a memory
that has burned with the rest
of my planet
from the star twenty-six
million light-years away.
please.
one day
humanity’s smog
and concrete seas
will have burned away
and i will not be here
to miss them.
please.
i must mourn them
in advance.