I Almost Forgot

Estimated Read Time: 50 seconds

There was something the universe told me to tell you

when it ripped the threads that turn lone stars into constellations,

stitched into night sky, bound by human creation,

and sewed them into my sinew.

There was something the universe told me to tell you.

There was something the universe wanted to whisper

when it methodically pooled the infinite darkness of space

into a soundless, breathless black hole vase,

and filled up my veins with the horizon’s black ichor.

There was something the universe wanted to whisper.

There was something the universe was trying to impart

when it swirled every color of the ephemeral dawn,

purple then blue then orange then bronze,

and tinted every tone of my beating heart.

There was something the universe was trying to impart.

I thought I forgot why I was made

of starlight and cosmos and the majesty of day,

and then I remembered when you told me the same;

the universe had something I was supposed to convey:

I love you.

That’s what the universe was trying to say.