Degauss the stars like cathode ray tubes using only your hands
The body first thinks explicitly in omens, or foretelling the end of things
Sleep less than intended; corporeality was tailor-made for you.
The body is just a suggestion, though, like the outline of existing
Akin to the stars lacking crystal clear imagery yet making shapes
Yet causing images in the night
And I sat and watched them unfold, shaking mildly, how beautiful.
How beautiful, the suggestion of form;
The existence of existence
Like wisps of stardust off the tips of your fingers and the rest of your outline
You are a degaussed constellation.
How beautiful the burning sensation; the smell
How beautiful destroying the innards
Like dying stars or a comet moving faster and then it’s gone
Creating outlines creating memories making
Sentences with your movements but no words.
How beautiful linguistics; complete sentences with two independent clauses
Intertwined to make the sun rise.
Watch it leave you like blood from the mouth, like stardust from the nose and eyes.
All other things beautiful like the suggestion of an outline; like actually falling asleep.