It’s been nearly fourteen billion years
since particles and antiparticles started pairing off
tumbling, colliding; losing one another in a vast, nucleosynthetic field
We are fibers of crosslinked carbon, twined together
born from waveless water
stretching, tearing, emerging patterns
condensing at the interface between fermions and stars
I am not a witness, nor the subject
just an accidental target for sputtering bits of vaporized information
Billions bounce off, a few carve in, the rest pass through
I’m a consumer — suckling air while learning to breathe milk
slowly learning to tell blood from fire
You are smoke, precipitating match heads
wetting cardboard pages, stapling them into tiny books
drowning words, dissolving them in wine, flooding libraries
emitting stellar clouds that cross sense and time
Sources are light bringers, writhing and scratching against one another
sparking, wearing down, so bright they burn