Not too long ago,
you said I was a
Condensed Supernova,
with all the trillion years of history
bubbling out of me
in ripples of cosmos
and a smattering of constellations.
And the truth is, you're right.
I play with the immensity of atmospheres
and listen to the winds of fate
like a howling lullaby.
I am subtle like a hurricane
and as quiet as a tempest.
I let the sunlight flood in
through my pores
just as quickly as
fury sets me aflame.
But you are the waves that crash against me,
smoothing my edges like tumbled sea glass.
You are the lull of camomile tea
that pours into my cup,
the tranquility of
Sunday mornings
and as certain as the sunrise.
You are the constant to my wavelengths
and the harmony that finds me
again and again.
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