(never) Letting Go Poem by Effie Yalena Steyn

In the blackness I prowl around my house, a loop of small town minds through mine.
I tried my hand at filmmaking, discovered that Hollywood's a lie.
America doesn't mind. She broods discontentment. She makes our ocean widen.
But the scalpel of age, it is I who can't make it cut.

If our universes ever collided, this heart of fools gold leaf
should disintegrate within its anchorage
Just as waves set the sun and ripples begin the blood red skies, stars
Shine Brightest before their fall.
Into black holes, supermassive alright, with my fermions and bosons,
We'll hold on ropes of lanes of gilded lakes of history making and let us not lose this fragile thread of connection
to another side of the universe.

Where you would see me lie and as I would
whisper Dylan Thomas, Alfred Hitchcock and
Aldous Huxley to your plummeting chest
with the nights shore lapping at ankles hyperextended
and my bloodbleaching fingers fashion motionless,
this would be small,
in a small world.

Two years,
Seven years,
Sixteen between us in 13.7 billion
seem to be of more consequence. But I have longed for you longer,
longer than all life has been on earth, before we started expanding and disappearing in dark matter at such an alarming rate.

I wish for closeness, duvet down of full-force edges and I'll never
Ever dream
Never scheme
Ever think of
Letting go.