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University Life Café

a woman with stars and the sun on her body

A Sermon in the Words of Galaxies Long Since Disassembled

Let our bodies have mass  
like the intellectual things we  
think we think, but we know  
we don't know and we really don't  
say  
out  
loud.  

Let us absolve the sins  
of the cells of our skins because  
nothing more important happened beneath  
the surface than a bad tattoo.  

Let the sun supernova  
and collapse like the lungs  
of a car crash victim collapse  
with the last inhale... exhale.  

Let us bask in the science  
of scientific nonsense.  
The arithmetic of  
of the aromatic nature of grass  
that smells like warm sweet tea  
and lightning bugs that whisper  
sweet nothings in the heat of night.  

Let the day pass by-  
a time elapsed scene  
where the clouds gather and then  
dissipate in the face of the displeased populous  
that lives beneath the sky.  

Let my paper disintegrate  
nothing more than pressed dead skin  
of trees older than my oldest sibling.  

Let my words run in lines  
ink smeared down a page  
wet with the ambiguity of my future  
drowning in gallons of existential crises  
and gasping for air when it breaks the surface.  

Let our tension disappear  
like that of new lovers  
after a first kiss,  
and hope it never comes back  
to haunt us.  

Let our bodies have mass.  
We'll exist in a special plane  
meant only for us  
and someday we'll learn  
that we are made of atoms.  
That we matter. 

--PennyLaneOnAbbeyRoad