If you let go my hand, the air will not
rush back in to fill the empty space,
rejected by the anguish of my skin
bereft of your palm’s touch.
If you leave my side, the space beside me
will empty like the eye of a whirlwind,
leaves swirling outside the scope
of these forsaken arms.
If you go away from me, stars will fall
from my night sky, emptied as from an eclipse,
and darkness will drift like smoke,
choking my dissipated heart.
Therefore never leave me, love,
lest my universe collapse in on itself,
a black hole devouring its own atoms, soul
desolate as the gravity of a neutron star.