Chaos in the supernova

Place me in chaos, I become chaos
ripping red holes in the fabric of time
an exploding supernova full floss
imploding at the cortex of my mind
till the darkness takes my hand in silence
and we drink to absent serenity
a dark fluid tincture of no semblance
leading to the absence of sanity
hibernating beneath quilts of labour
the ancients call to sisters singing
Pans song heard dancing in silent whispers
growing ever closer, chaos cleaving
on impact, I become space times black hole
compacting self, conforming into whole.

Karen Hayward © 2018

Image from wordpress

sky space telescope universe
Photo by Pixabay on








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