we learn of celestial bodies in science, and i touch what is considered forbidden knowledge about the stars; the longing of the supernova to cover as much of the blackness as it can in a moment of explosive intensity. write me a song on the blackboard in health class comparing your nature to the onslaught of solar winds, atmospheric pressure on my lungs, and the force of gravity you inflict upon the bearer of flowers. tug and pull celestial seeds floating in its own beaker. attack me. force me to answer and make me want more. ignore my protest and eat up the blank space with smeared fingerprints and crude words about my lust in the dark and how the night sky swallowed me whole.
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