Space is a haunted house, and we are its ghosts
The universe flees as fast as it can, stretching, expanding infinites
as we rattle our chains
hungry to hurtle free of Earth
In the distance,
black holes scream
planets combust
binary stars death spiral
desperate to escape our flesh-cursed-sentience,
our haunted-haunting emptiness
H.V. Patterson is a speculative poet, fiction writer, and playwright living in Oklahoma. Poetry credits include ETTT, Star*Line, Dwarf Stars, Haven Speculative, and Brave New Weird. You can find her on BlueSky: @hvpatterson, Instagram: @hvpattersonwriter, or at hvpatterson.com