by Andrew Alexander Mobbs
First, timidity: brooding for eons in astral loneliness,
until one day the blackness between them becomes
too pristine to pass up, free of asteroids and other
meddlesome celestial bodies, a clear sign from
whomever put them there. One star pleads with
gravity, the eternal matchmaker: I’m ready, it begs,
to be part of something even bigger than the universe.
Gravity isn’t heartless, so it capitulates, pulls it closer
to the other star, the object of its desire, and over time,
their hydrogen and helium molecules glow bright in
anticipation. Twenty thousand years later, they will
finally meet in a radiant spiral, exchange atoms and
photons in their coalescence, kiss each other hello
and goodbye all at once, explode together and leave
behind a black hole deeper than everything.