Sagittarius A* 9/10/25

They send us to graves then cover us in stones

carved with our names.

We become organic gifts neatly wrapped up,

placed in special boxes with great ceremony and intent.

Lifeless seeds never meant to grow.

We can talk for hours about how long an eternity takes

but none of us truly believes this is forever.

We masked our caskets in so many veils that when our carcasses rattle,

we're convinced it isn’t because we are hollowed out on the inside.

Decaying voids that go to heaven or hell.

Each time one of us gives birth or when the dirt turns back into something the gods can try to work with one more time, like an encore from the stars, we quickly destroy it.

Only to find that nothing escapes once brought inside.

Our sins are stained on our skin, our past clings to us

like little generational curses discretely tucked in between the horizon and the sunset

hanging on gallery walls showcasing sodomy and rape erected in statues of men who we have projected beyond the Milky Way

like X-rated flicks

over the threshold

on the onset

of the end 

of everything.