for mom.

         at first

there was a sick relief in hearing
your soul supernova

i understood your lack of impulse to connect
         the density inside you
         limited energy fueling only implosion
         your fear of its aftermath:

we wouldn't know, you said, when we'd crossed
         the event horizon,
         too close to know we were
         dying with you.

i tried to explain through the cosmic noise:
         "but i'm a
         black hole
         too."

black holes, i explained, when they get close enough,
         they dance with
         each other, collapse
         into one another

i turned on the waltz and reached out,
promised it was better than

         collapsing alone.