Hold me in your spiral arms, massage me
through your hot young stars, their open clusters
searing my tense pores, hydrogen and he-
lium enfolding my skin in luster
of your disk opaque, swimming in halo’s
age-old stars, humming their vibrant soulsongs,
their random elliptical orbits slow
as sea’s ebb as my body floats along
toward your nucleus, my being absorbed
in magnetic field of invisible
you: dark matter I may never know, orb
of endless gravitation, forceful pull
passing all I can conceive, conceiving
me in your missing mass, coming, leaving.
Roger Armbrust
May 1, 2008
