My Unborn Babies
You said, "We are both made of star dust, let us shine alone!"
but my bones must be from beyond your observable universe.
My mind is still forming bitter blue pockets, thoughts, protostars, lives but
they curl up inside of themselves, petering out, before they can be born.
You supernovaed too soon, rather than following a legacy, my only wish;
Andromeda's dream to join with the Milky Way in a moment of destruction
but birth. No, a splendor but a shame, you sputtered as you dispersed
when the solar winds blew you out with a laugh; but the bits of me lost,
were gone forever. You dream devourer, you smothered the concept before star
dust grew into bones, a cut out part of me you didn't miss but I will mourn.
Come say that to my dusty, smeared face; to my belly always flat, to that rip
in time, always sore, that scar blaring our loss. No more star here,
don't expect our lives to change from two into one.
That dust rusted between the galaxies.
Credit: ESO, some rights reserved
Ameé Hennig comes from a varied background of Astronomy Research as an undergraduate and Creative Writing. Currently, she works with the University of Arizona as an Education & Outreach Coordinator with the goal of increasing the number of children and adults with vested interest in STEM topics. In the future Ameé hopes to also inspire anyone and everyone that comes across her astropoetry to learn something about science and astronomy while also finding a unique connection to the stars. Read more on her astropoetry blog at www.astropoetamee.wordpress.com.