i see you first through a black hole.
the air is heavy or it is nothing at all.
perhaps i call it heavy because my heart is that way,
and the hearts stuck like a mother’s hand without mercy on my back is a red i will never forget,
and the hearts filling my heart are the only things i carry.
your heart, i suppose,
is the only thing that matters,
because you call it empty and i call it heavy
and we have never seen air the way it should be seen.
i see you first through the screen
or i’ve never seen you before. in a movie
this is when the stars scream
and the planets ricochet off of the only thing they understand. maybe it is love or something just as primal
and i suppose that is when i first say i want you
the same way the stars say i need you
each one pulling pulling dragging dragging
each other to each other as if without one
there is no other without you i do not exist
i do not exist i have never existed at least not the way i should.
so through this black hole nothing matters;
how can anything matter when there is no matter.
i touch you and a lifetime passes by.
i touch you and your heart turns blue in my chest,
one heart on another, twisting everything in red blue two.
in some other movie neither one of us is empty and
you are not heavy. in that movie i am a heart and only a heart.
in that movie there is no black hole
no nothing no empty nothing heavy only matter.
only matter and
only me and only you and only the hearts we carry.