Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
The Sock Drawer - 7. Be Space
Be Space
Beauty lies in chaos, like stars
are something wild, and dangerous, vast gas
... particles, rays, waves ...
and we're just slugs from caves.
To shine brightly, you only need to die.
Like a real star explode into a searing glow,
bright enough to leave ice cold, but burn all carbon.
Into light, evaporate.
Pass floating rocks, with ore inlaid.
Melt them, have them gravitate
into the mist that you create.
Were a human this far out, with you out here in space,
just come to look, like humans are, they would lose their face,
it would simply flake off in your gaze,
your radioactive, beautiful rays.
But even knowing this, many would come if they could.
There are so many of you that you cannot be counted,
and many as deadly as you, to them, but they would.
Raw energy tastes powerful, and you are an explosion
that lasts for millennia, a universe corrosion
in glinting chaos of matter.
Maybe it will even out, in a few more trillion years
- which can't be counted without time, but then, who really cares?
Now we're in a storm of power, in a shining, vast, cold shower
continually under attack of light, piercing all on its long flight,
and it appeals to all my senses, I am very much inclined
to find it beautiful. For all its curious aesthetics, cruel beauty,
chaos, and power, rank high in my mind.
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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