Cracked Black Holes

The glass cracks against her breath. Still in place. To see through. A fractured pantomime promises the world out there. in broken faces and severed limbs. The images skate around the surface of her eyes with disjointed contrition. black holes are where she knows the light is. all that was taken away. or lost. captured. contained. waiting. patiently still. for her to breach the mouth of that chasm.

she builds the puzzle with each passing hour. an elaborate conundrum. of flesh and words. the black hole at the back of her throat. the solution in the fragile glass. As it burrows well beneath her skin. Some colors she once saw. a sip. a slither. a snake. to poison her anew. and at last the static dissolves.

she can hear again. the nothing inside it. the everything that surrounds. the tick of the flame as it begins to die out. the puzzle locking into place. all around those empty boxes.

Peering into the black. wondering what could be in such an infinite hole. seeing the light trapped in there. and all the cracked glass desperate to let it escape.