Blackhole

Drifting alone in space.

No ground.

No sound.

Just the hum

of nothing.

Lost.

And alone.

Time unravels.

Stars blink

and forget me.

I forget me.

No direction.

No tether.

Just orbitless thought—

frictionless,

fading.

Then—

a shift.

Not seen.

Not heard.

But felt.

A tension

beneath the void.

A whisper

in the weightlessness.

A curve

in the silence.

Something is there.

Not light,

but pull.

Not warmth,

but gravity.

And I am falling—

slowly,

softly,

inevitably.

Drawn in.

Closer.

Then—

you.

Not shining.

Consuming.

Not a star.

But the place

where everything bends.

You don’t speak.

You reshape.

You hold me

without arms.

You know me

without name.

Drowning in the dark,

but not alone.

You are the collapse

that becomes creation.

The end

that feels like breath.

And I—

undone,

become.

I love you.