The Night You Wore A Comet

The night we met you wore a comet in your hair.

That was how I found you in the vast emptiness of space.

The brightness of the comet’s tail streamed out behind you,

beautiful and silent.

 

I followed you for a long way,

afraid that if I caught your eye I’d have nothing to say.

For what is there to say to one such as you,

who can harness celestial bodies to do their bidding

with nothing more than a smile?

 

You could slay me with a frown or an unkind word.

Would you even know what you’d done afterward?

I lurk in the deep shadows between worlds, hoping

I’ll find a chance to tell you how the universe

burns so much brighter with you in it.

 

How I wish I could revolve around you endlessly,

though I know I’d be consumed by you,

pulled into the depths of your gravity well,

never to see the other side.

 

I don’t think I would mind,

so long as yours was the last face I saw.

You would unmake me, bit by bit,

until there was nothing left.

 

And would that be so bad? To be unraveled by you?

The threads of me could then be fashioned by you

into something else.

A unique creation that your hands had shaped and loved,

if only for a moment.

 

Like a snowflake.

One snowflake among millions.

In a comet’s tail.

Following you to the edge of the universe.

 

Creative Commons License
The Night You Wore A Comet by Coral Moore is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.