Note To Self: Don’t Stop Fighting

scientists fear

with your hand on the window frame, you looked out at the night sky. & turning your head toward me, you said there was this theory  about the universe being ever e  x  p  a  n  d  i  n  g.

that every planet, star, galaxy & blackhole out there, is relentlessly drifting apart from it all.

as though in their hovering for distance, in their majestic swaying through star clusters, every bit of the universe claimed independence from our shared existence.

that same night our last the hypnotic effect of your beauty & that ranting over the cosmos, must have strangled my senses out. cause what i forgot to tell you or what you didn't seem to know, was that there is a counter-theory; an antithesis on the dynamics of the universe.

scientists suspect that the universe will eventually stop it's expansion to begin its contraction. exactly as the ball vertically thrown to reach the sky, that at a certain height surrenders to gravity & starts its way down.

scientists fear the moment every star & planet & galaxy & blackhole will simultaneously shrink into a single spot in place & time. a sort of big bang in reverse, an outside in.

which is to say: you fled from us, away from me to never look back on what we had. i guess in some shape or form, we mimicked the universe by drifting away from each other;  sitting on opposite edges of this galaxy; dodging our own asteroids; breathing distant stardust & riding comets that might never cross paths.

imagine, just imagine that these scientists' fear comes true  & everything that's out there begins to compress; will the universe then bring us back to how we were?

a massive clash.

cosmos to cosmos, galaxy to galaxy, planet to planet & lips to lips.

honey,           this might be the universe reminding us,            how we                        are destined                                            to collide.

- skin the poet  (2017)

maghrib at home

Mouna Kalla-Sacranie © more here

Downtown

Instagram

I am my lover. I am the one that tends my garden. I am the one I will always say goodnight to last.

Nicholas A Browne (via wnq-writers)

One does not find solitude, one creates it. Solitude is created alone. I have created it. Because I decided that here was where I should be alone, that I would be alone to write books. It happened this way. I was alone in this house. I shut myself in—of course, I was afraid. And then I began to love it. This house became the house of writing. My books come from this house. From this light as well, and from the garden. From the light reflecting off the pond. It has taken me twenty years to write what I just said.

Marguerite Duras, Writing (via mythologyofblue)

‘But, I love him.’ the Sea whispers to the Sun. ‘I know,’ The Sun replies. ‘But I’ve loved him longer. I loved him first.’

The Fall of Icarus - Commentary  | p.d (via lostcap)

relationships (2016)