What if…

I was a quasar,
and saw in liquid light?
Planets and moons
would be oblique,
blackened depths
of void could be
the unbound death
of shadows known
only to movements of me…

What if…

I was a black hole,
and felt pain from rabid light?
Sunny stars and
galaxies
might slash and scar,
undark could show
the woeful wounds
of colors bright,
painfully undoing me...

What if…

I was the moon above,
impacted by others light?
Craters and shoals
of loneliness,
burnt into my frame,
my mind aghast at
damages, inflicted by
my kind, shattered and
battered by shades of me…

What if…

I was never conceived,
no glimmer of anyone’s light?
Hollows and goals
of being alive,
unwound yet staying tight,
my soul, alone in
emptiness, shallow and
sublimed, gathered into
nothingness, no Time for being me…

Erin Moen
4/26/03