His is a black hole heart and my smile breaks on his event horizon.
Not one for outpourings of affection, he is closed and staunch
stiff and difficult to embrace. Laughter, I think,
is alien and mirth would be turned away at his threshold.
When first we met I assumed his gravitational constant must be greater
than any other man’s to anchor his feet so firmly, to weigh his steps and his words so.
Truly, a singularity.
I, a creature of light and air, a wisp, saw these things as a terrible darkness
and yet, I was not impervious to that gravity.
His eyes, drowning deep, drew me in
pulled me apart
reduced me to the basics of my essence
The existence of a black hole is proven by that which is not seen.
cruelty greed infidelity ridicule
None of these treacherous traits have I ever observed–
proof, therefore, of his noble heart
the galactic center around which my every world dances