To the One the

To the One the Stars Spoke About

I am writing this because the stars shifted

and I watched the map change

with no fucking choice in it.

Not fate.

Not that hollow word, predestination.

Just the universe speaking,

and somehow

speaking you into the room.

The unplanned things

are the only things that breathe.

You were the fracture in the rhythm,

the beautiful anomaly

the cosmos buried

in the center of my chest.

This gravity is still unfamiliar to me.

I don’t know where to put my hands.

The dark folded inward

until nothing was left

but this precise,

crushing alignment.

I used to build walls,

try to bend the wind,

force the world

in another direction.

I chose, for once, not to.

Something was already moving toward us,

already gathering

in marrow, in silence,

a path beneath my feet

before I knew how to walk it.

So I stopped fighting the tilt of things

and let it take me.

Let the universe

pull its scattered pieces together

without asking my permission.

You are the echo

moving through every empty room in me,

the answer the darkness carried

before I knew there was a question.

Maybe we were never meant to understand why.

Maybe we were only meant to arrive.

I keep the light off some nights

just to hear you there,

still speaking,

still the only word

the dark ever taught me.