"Every time you take a drink of water, you're drinking recycled star material. Our bodies are created entirely of star stuff."
—National Geographic
When he learned he could drink the stars, he vowed
that even one burning sphere could never be enough
to quench the thirst that ached in all his shriveled cells;
he longed to pour galaxies down his throat, consume
cold dwarfs and exploding novas, suck cotton candy
nebulae through his teeth, chew the baby stars
inside like sunflower seeds, wolf dark matter gulfs
in gassy gulps and mow through Andromeda spirals
like a starved teen through meatlover's pizza. He longed
to turn himself inside out. Envelop and swallow
the universe. Stuff his stomach on bloated creation.
Spill acid back to the Big Bang. Show God
how real cleansing gets done, primordial soup
breakdown way more wicked than Noah's flood.