I float where silence has a sound—
a hum of stars, unplugged and raw.
Earth’s a blue regret, now small,
and loneliness is Newton’s law.
The comet’s tail, a smuggled song,
brushes my frozen cheek.
I count the voids between the lights—
eternity’s critique.
My oxygen is numbered breaths,
each gasp a ticking crime.
The Milky Way, a graveyard’s veil,
draped over endless time.
I press my palm to the capsule’s glass;
my fingerprint aligns
with constellations I once named
for lovers left behind.
©nino
N