I wrote this after being amused by stuff that Nicabeng & Tin posted.

And also after playing this song 100 million years on repeat (not religious but definitely loving CHVRCHES)

(under the cut because it’s long-ish)

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Reversible in theory

From one of my favorite reads so far:

And so Eve ate from the Tree and knew that she was a naked child of divergent universes. She took the fruit to Adam and said unto him: There are things you do not understand, but I do. And Adam was angry and snatched the fruit from Eve and devoured it, and from beyond the cosmic background radiation, God sighed, for all physical processes are reversible in theory – but not in practice. Man and Woman were expelled from the Garden, and a flaming sword was placed through the Gate of Eden as a reminder that the universe would now contract and someday perish in a conflagration of entropy, only to increase in density, burst, and expand again, causing further high-velocity redistributions of serpents, fruit, men, women, helium-3, lithium-7, deuterium, and helium-4.

– Catherynne Valente, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at Space/Time”

View from the other side of the sky

No one ever dreams
of dying. From this side
everything is small:

dots of white dipping
between shades of loneliness,
wayward supernovas, coiling

inside themselves; sleepstate gods sipping
hot coffee from a cup of souls, electromagnetic
syringes plotting skeletons,

coordinates of a constellation seconds close
to being born; nameless
animals, granted eyes

of prophets, praying for prey
in a wilderness without
rocks and soil. No mud caking

your heels, no weeds, grime, or continents-
a landscape barren
of everything built to soften

all forms of impact.


I’m back, bitches.


Remember the dinosaurs, giants reduced
to the size of a page in all those books
you pored over? As a child
you knew them all, called the very names
of their bones, remember how you read
and believed they existed
in your neighbor’s backyard? The largeness
of their bodies so easily extinguished
into history, by a simple spark
from space – you always skipped the part explaining
how they died, how everything else arrived
into being: hundreds of species, brambling
bones, muscles, fins, antlers all vying and dying
to fill all the spaces held
vacant by the absence of those towering forms,
how the plates of the earth moved, mourning
this loss the best way they could.
Only the great boulders stayed
still, careful not to break, wedging
all their jagged edges deeper
and deeper into the earth, claiming
for themselves a song, from every fossil
still trapped in their cores, proof
that even the largest things fold
under the simplest of desires:
how the universe wanted more


because this is what I call desire:
the strange need to rip you apart
with my front teeth: incisors, we call them
like as if the animals from before would even give

a name to the act that serves
as a prelude to the gnashing
of food (- what we need
to keep us alive) and what do I make of this –

of you, my dear, delightful little delicacy: your eyes
are stars and how you smell like a January morning
so cold yet still a warm body
like a sun, my sun- floating

from invisible threads: held to entice
some hungry, baneful thing
like me, so bright, so beautiful
I imagine how you would explode

within some secret corner kept
in my mouth – my dear, delightful dessert
how you desert me: keeping yourself
in a distant universe.

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