I'll douse cigarette butts on
The surface of my skin-
To stash you in my sins.
Before I let apathy take over.
I'll chisel down all my longings
Deep enough to cast you down
My ribs.
On the tip of my nib.
Around the contours of
My whim.
And before I let you go
For good. I shall intimately
Weave you into the fabric of
Cosmic expanse. So when,
A star dies, every time,
The vacuum left shall set in
A fiery impact that can only
Be filled with your voice.