Isaac Hollander McCreery, 2 September 2016

“Alone, disentangled:
Is that what you want?”

He asked me again as we swung to and fro in the breeze,
Coating our bare skin in the smells and tastes of early September.

I am a girl, one among thousands,
A start strewn billions of years ago into the Milky Way.
I stare forever
At you,
At all of you,
Until, one day,
I’ll burn out.

“No, but I want to be free.”

You may turn your gaze upon me—
I hope you would—
But you can never engulf me,
For I am too big.

Breath out—
Do you hear that?
It’s your own breath, not mine,
And it will always be your own breath, not mine,
Until it ceases completely.