The cascade of stars humbles me.
The vastness of the thing, space,
Tells me to remember my own character, face.
Remembering I held hands once and loved,
That I laughed long and loud,
That once there was gaseous pain,
Of life lived in a vacuous cloud.
But through lifelong drama,
I have to remember.
I have to decide,
Whether, tomorrow exists.
If there is to be more hands and laughter,
There will always be enough self-hatred
Yet I hold onto mistakes and dismember
That which is sacred.
I can let go in time, I suppose,
as I watch the infinite stars.
